Compulsion
by Lissa Bryan
Summary: Bella rescues Emmett at the lowest point of his life and meets Edward soon after. Love triangles can be messy. Sometimes, they can even cause a war. Rated M, AU/OOC
1. Intent

AN: Twilight's characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. No infringement intended.

This story has been floating around in my mind for a while now. I'm not quite sure how long it will be, but the story is fully "written" in my head. We'll just have to wait and see where the muse takes me when it comes to getting it from my brain to my keyboard.

My vampires are different than Meyer's, more closely following the "traditional" vampire traits.

I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own. Apologies in advance.

* * *

><p>Chapter 1<br>Intent

Emmett reached the edge of the cliff just as the sky began to lighten faintly at the horizon. There had been a storm the previous evening and the sea below was angry. It churned and rammed against the rocks at the base of the cliff. Normally, he'd enjoy watching the waves, but no pleasure had penetrated the numbness for some time now.

_Ennui_, the older ones called it. He was supposed to be too young to fall victim to its effects, but for too long he'd been merely going through the motions. Once he'd made his decision, it was as though a fog had lifted; he'd been happier his last week than he'd been in a very long time.

Would his clothes burn? He wasn't sure. He'd never seen a vampire destroyed by the sunlight and it wasn't a subject most of his kind discussed at any length. Too disturbing. Too morbid.

He unbuckled his watch and tossed it into the rocky surf below. It had been a gift from Edward who had, as usual, spared no expense, so it was waterproof and very sturdy. Even its baptism in the pounding waves wouldn't harm it, so it was likely the watch would be found eventually by some lucky beachcomber. If the finder was an honest sort, they might turn it in, but when no one claimed it, they'd find themselves the owner of a watch worth more than a luxury car.

Emmett fished out his wallet and upended it. His credit cards spun and tumbled toward the waves. He rarely carried cash. The few bills inside caught the breeze and fluttered away. One caught on a nearby bush, an anonymous gift to some passerby. He liked that thought.

He dropped his now-empty wallet, uncaring where it landed. The sky was now beginning to warm with the impending dawn, turning pink at the horizon. His skin tingled with warning. He moved a little closer to the edge. When the sun broke over the horizon, there would be nowhere to hide. The nearest house sat a hundred yards back and there were no trees to shield him. It was why he'd chosen this particular location during his aimless wandering of the previous week.

He wondered briefly if it would hurt. His age worked against him in this respect. Fledglings would conflate the instant the sunlight touched their skin which was why nature attempted to protect them during their most vulnerable hours with deep, death-like slumber. Most fledglings would already be unconscious at this time of the morning. As they aged, their sun-tolerance gradually grew allowing them to remain awake later; Ancients like Edward rarely slept, but few of their kind made it to his venerable age. (Edward had once said, in the wry tone that often made even those who knew him well unsure of whether or not he was serious, that only sociopaths became Ancients.)

What Emmett feared was that his age would make it a slow burn and the pain might cause his resolve to break, diving beneath the waves to hide from the scorching sun, or God forbid, charging into one of the houses nearby, crazed with pain and hunger, desperate for blood to heal his burns.

He dismissed the thought and replaced it with determination. A feeling of deep peace flowed through him. It was over. He closed his eyes.

"Oh, no. Please don't."

Emmett started. He spun to face the woman behind him, shocked that a mortal had managed to come so close without attracting his notice. He should have heard her steps, her heartbeat.

The woman took a step closer to him. She was a tiny thing, plump and soft-looking, her heart-shaped face framed by long brown hair. Gently pretty. Her chocolate eyes pleaded with him. "Don't," she said again.

"How do you know-" Emmett's voice trailed off as the wind shifted and brought her scent to his nose. His gut clenched as he inhaled. Oh, God, it was the most delicious thing he'd smelled in... how long? He took another breath. Her scent was vaguely familiar but he couldn't place it. He felt his fangs elongate with bloodlust.

"I know because I once stood there myself, with the same intentions you have," she said. "And I'm hoping you won't do it for the same reason I didn't."

"What reason is that?" he asked, shaking his head a little to try to clear it. He turned his face into the clean breeze coming off the ocean and inhaled enough unscented air to speak. Vampires didn't need to breathe, but they did need air to talk.

"Someone told me something. They told me that they _cared_." She took another tentative step toward him. "I didn't think anyone _would_ care if I died. In fact, I felt the world would probably be better off without me."

Emmett wasn't egotistical enough think the world notice his passing, much less that it would be any better or worse for it, but he had felt that Edward would be happier without having to drag Emmett's ass around and coax him through the motions of life.

"But this guy," the woman continued, "stood right where I'm standing and he said that even if no one else did, _he_ cared. He didn't want to see me throw away my potential."

"What if I have no potential?" Emmett said, and it was Edward's tone he was using, the sarcastic, amused, flippant tone of someone little effected by the tiny dramas of the world around him. It was the attitude he'd attempted to assume to protect himself but had never quite assimilated it.

The woman frowned and he had the crazy notion hat his words had hurt her, and even more crazily, he _cared_ that he had. This woman, reaching out to a stranger, her gentle soul in her eyes, wanting to help him in the same way she'd been helped. "Everyone has potential," she replied, her tone firm and resolute. "Sometimes we just need a little help in finding it."

Emmett looked back toward the horizon, now a bright orange that stung his eyes. There wasn't much time left before the decision would be out of his hands.

"Please," the woman said softly. "Please don't do this. Come with me." The wind shifted again and he was once again drowning in her delicious scent but also mesmerized by her sweet chocolate eyes. He was surprised to find himself aroused- that hadn't happened in a while.

He hesitated. If he surrendered to her plea, he might not get another chance like this. What if he lost his courage? The idea of going back to his numb routine was unbearable.

And yet... This woman sparked his interest. She swam through the fog, cut through the numbness. In a rare flash of insight, he knew that if he followed her, she would lead him into a new life, a new sense of purpose.

He stepped forward, away from the cliff, away from oblivion. She smiled, a genuinely happy smile that lifted his own heart a bit. He had made her happy and found, to his surprise, that he liked that very much.

She led him away from the cliff, toward the last house he had passed. "I'm Bella", she offered.

"Emmett," he replied. He could feel the heat of the impending sunrise on his back. They reached the back of the house, which had been built into the side of a hill and climbed a set of stairs to the balcony above. Bella pulled a key from her skirt pocket as they approached the door and he hoped like hell she'd manage to unlock the door and get them inside before he caught fire on her stoop. That might be difficult to explain.

They stepped through the door and Bella closed it behind them just as the sun broke over the horizon.


	2. Interest

Chapter Two

"Come in," Bella said, gesturing to the sofa. Emmett scanned the room quickly and was relieved that the windows were blocked by thick drapes. "Make yourself comfortable. Would you like some coffee?"

"Maybe later." He smiled tightly, trying to conceal his fangs. Her scent was stronger in the house despite competing with the strong odors of disinfectants and cleaners.

"Excuse me for a moment, then, because I badly need a cup." She slipped through the doorway into what was, presumably, the kitchen.

Emmett looked around, noting the utter lack of a decorating theme. The room was cluttered with a seemingly random blend of antiques, junk and mementoes and art, with books crammed into every possible spot, but stringently clean without a speck of dust in sight. He couldn't imagine how much time it must take to dust her eclectic collection.

If a person's home was an expression of their personality, Bella was a fascinating jumble. Hers was the only scent he detected; she lived alone (aside from a cat) and hadn't even entertained visitors in a very long time.

He stepped closer to a shelf and studied the _ushabti_ functioning as a bookend. To his surprise, it seemed genuine. He wouldn't thought of her as wealthy enough to own Egyptian pharaonic antiquities.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Bella asked from the doorway. A light blue mug was cupped in her hands.

"It is," Emmett replied, "How did you come to have this piece?"

"My mother," Bella gestured to a framed photograph of a blonde woman with Bella's soft eyes that was perched beside a struggling philodendron. "She traveled and always brought back treasures. I always wished I could go with her. These pieces were like sharing the experience."

"Why didn't you go with her?"

Bella gave him a small smile and sipped her coffee. "Various reasons."

He nodded, accepting and respecting her privacy. For the time being, that is. His curiosity was piqued and he had every intention of delving into her mind.

Bella tilted her head. "You need to rest."

Emmett looked away, his eyes landing on the cheap particleboard bookcase beside the door. (A material that Edward scathingly referred to as "pressed horseshit".) Its shelves sagged from the weight of the books stacked two rows deep. Mostly fiction, he noted, with a heavy emphasis on the classics, all of them battered with broken spines. She didn't have Bronte and Tolstoy tomes to impress visitors; these were books that had been worn heavily by multiple readings.

"You look very tired," Bella said. "Why don't you lie down for a while? You'll feel better after some sleep."

Emmett doubted that but acquiesced. She led him down a short hallway to a bedroom. Hers, judging from the scent of it. He hung back until he had confirmed that all of the windows were thickly covered with drapery.

Here the furniture matched, an early American four-post bed opposite an enormous Chippendale highboy that would make an _Antiques Roadshow_ appraiser weep with lust. A washstand at its side held a Wedgewood bow and pitcher, the latter stuffed with dried flowers. Beside the bed, a spindly-legged table was perched, a Tiffany lamp atop it, a colorful incongruous note. It was Bella's room, from the scent of it.

"Get some sleep," Bella urged. 

Emmett felt he could happily wallow in linens drenched with her scent. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed. Bella stood in the doorway, nibbling her lip. She wanted to say something.

He broke the small silence. "Thank you."

She smiled and he ached at the sight. Bella was pretty but when she smiled, she was the most gorgeous sight he'd beheld in years. He wanted nothing more than to rise, pull her into his arms and brush that soft hair from her neck. She would arch into him, that same smile lighting her face, and he would bite-

_Stop!_ he commanded himself.

"You're welcome, Emmett", she said and something inside him leapt when she spoke his name. "I hope... I hope I can help you. I do want to help you."

"You have," he assured her, and meant it.

"I was telling the truth when I said I've been there myself." She bit her lip again and he trembled with the urge to bite it himself. "For years, I kept digging a pit. Every day, a little deeper. A few times I climbed out, a few times those who loved me draggedme out, but depression gets to be a habit, you know? That pit became familiar. It became _comforting, _and I didn't want to leave."

Emmett knew what she meant. Over the last decade, he'd been weaving in and out of these spells and when he felt himself going back into the black, back into the numb detachment, he felt like he was walking a well-worn path to where he belonged. _Hello darkness, my old friend._

She reached toward him, as if to caress his cheek or run her fingers through his curly hair, but she abruptly drew back, an expression of faint surprise flitting across her face as if her hand had pulled a _Dr. Strangelove_ on her.

"Rest," she said, turning to walk away. "I'll bring you something to eat later."

"Thank you, but there's no need-"

She tossed a smile over her shoulder. "Not to be rude or anything but it really looks like you need it."

He imagined he did, pale and shaky as he was. She couldn't understand, of course, what he really needed. She closed the door, smiling as she backed away, her soft eyes full of compassion.

Emmett laid back on her bed with a soft groan. He rolled over and tugged her comforter down, burrowing his face into the sheets. To his disappointment, they were freshly laundered, but her scent still clung to them, faint but sweet. What was that scent? What made it so different, so succulent? He was sure she had never encountered his kind before. Few vampires would be able to resist draining her.

The bed crinkled strangely as he moved. He pulled up the edge of the bottom sheet and stared in puzzlement at the plastic lining. Why would Bella have a mattress cover? He smelt no traces of incontinence. Another mystery to tuck away and ponder.

He nuzzled his face into her pillow and arranged his body into the proper position, chuckling at the way his legs hung out over the end of the bed. It was a bit shorter than modern beds (likely she had to have the mattress custom made) and he _was _a very large man.

He closed his eyes and found that he was tired after all. He hadn't slept in days. At his age, he no longer slept every day but the three days he'd been awake were stretching his limits. He slipped into the dreamless sleep of his kind. His last waking thought was a hope that Bella didn't come in to check on him and freak out at the unbreathing body lacking a pulse.

In the late afternoon, he woke with a start. He heard footsteps heading away and realized that it must have been the door shutting that woke him. The scent of human food caught his nose and he found the source of it on the bedside table. A plate wrapped in plastic had been placed there, along with a glass that also bore a cover of cling-wrap. Maybe this chick had a thing for plastic.

"_Mrow_."

Emmett looked down and beheld a contender for World's Ugliest Cat sitting on the floor, and staring intently at his plate. The door must not have securely latched when Bella left, because it was pushed open just enough to admit the scraggly creature. Tufts of its tortoiseshell fur were missing, as was its left eye. Both ears were missing pieces.

"_Mrow._"

He was glad Bella had a cat as a pet rather than a dog. For some unknown reason, cats loved vampires but dogs feared and despised them. The cat leapt up onto Emmett's chest and immediately began using his paws to knead. Apparently satisfied that he'd softened the spot sufficiently, the cat curled up in a purring ball, turning his head upside down to look into Emmett's face.

"_Mrow_?"

"Is that Cat-ese for 'I want a piece of your sandwich'?" Emmett asked, stroking the scruffy feline. Up close, Emmett could see the scars where fur would never grow again. "You've had a rough time of it, eh?"

The cat confirmed this assumption with an emphatic "_Mrow._" Emmett reached for the plate. "All right, let's see what we've got." He peeled away the plastic cover to reveal a turkey club with a side of potato chips and a pickle spear. "Ah, it must be the pickle you want," Emmett said, waggling it in front of the cat. It gave him a disdainful look, clearly doubting his intelligence.

"Are you even allowed to eat People Food?" 

"_Mrow_."

"I suspect you're lying, but I'll give you a bit anyway. Just don't tell Bella."

"_Mrow,_" the cat promised.

Emmett tore off a piece of turkey and fed it to the cat. For all of his rough appearance, the cat was a dainty eater. Emmet fed him a few pieces and then gently deposited the feline on the bed beside him. He got up and peeked out the door. Bella was nowhere in sight.

Emmett tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom. _Just follow the smell of bleach_, he thought. He entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He'd heard the expression _You could eat off the floor_ but he'd never encountered a place that literally embodied it. Surgical suites were not as clean as Bella's bathroom. Everything in the room was white, half-tiled in shiny white porcelain with white paint on the walls above. The floor was also tiled in white with no grout between them. The old-fashioned freestanding tub gleamed and not a hair disgraced the drain.

Emmett shredded the sandwich into bits and dropped them in the toilet along with the chips. He left a small potion of the sandwich on the plate and took a bite out of it, spitting it into the bowl. He admired the nice bitemark he had left. He flushed away the evidence.

He couldn't help it, he had to snoop a bit. He opened her medicine cabinet and found it bare of most of the things other humans thought essential. She had a bottle of Vitamin E capsules and a tube of "all-natural" toothpaste, a brand he didn't recognize. Her toothbrush was on one of the shelves, sealed in a plastic container.

Under the sink, he was surprised to find none of the ordinary feminine hygiene products. Only a bottle of bleach and a box of disposable toilet brushes beside a package of toilet paper made from recycled fiber.

He picked up the bottle that rested on the edge of the tub. It was shampoo/body wash that smelled like freesia but had no chemicals or dyes, according to the text on the reverse. He popped the cap open and inhaled. It smelled like Bella. He put it down and went in search of her.

The smell of food led him to the kitchen. Bella was standing at the stove, humming as she stirred a pot. Emmett intentionally took heavy steps as not to startle her and she gave him one of those beautiful smiles over her shoulder. "Hello, Emmett. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I did," he replied. "Thank you. I needed that." He put his plate on the counter. "What are you making?" It looked like a Thanksgiving feast. She had every burner occupied by a pot or pan and something baking in the oven. A water distiller in the corner of the counter was dripping into a pitcher.

"It's Wednesday," she said absently as a timer dinged. She put mitts on her hands and pulled the oven door down a bit. "Five more minutes," he heard her mutter.

"Wednesday?"

"Oh, yes." Bella straightened up and joined the conversation. "Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I cook dinner for my friends."

"Can I help?"

Her eyes shone as if his offer was her dearest wish. "Would you? Everything's almost done. Could you please go to the balcony and get my wagon?"

Okay, that was an odd request, but Emmett complied, following her pointing finger to a sliding glass door. He checked the floor beneath the curtain for any indication of sunlight before pulling it aside and going outside. The sun had set recently; he could still feel its warmth on the handle of the wagon. Made of heavy-duty plastic, the wagon had a cooler-style lid that snapped shut and large wheels for rough terrain. He pulled it back into the kitchen and froze as his ears caught an approaching sound. It was the engine of his 1962 Stingray.

Mortal ears could not discern that every car engine sounded different, as unique as a fingerprint. It was his car, and only one person could be driving it.

Edward had always coveted Emmett's Stingray. He made outlandish offers for it at least once a month (the last was 2.6 billion dollars and a villa in the south of France) occasionally tried to "steal" it with elaborate, good-natured ruses. When Emmett had left the house for what he thought was the last time, he'd taken the key from his ring and left it in the middle of the counter.

Emmett pulled the wagon over to Bella and told her he needed to step outside for a moment. She was back in her cooking mode and simply nodded. Emmett closed the door behind him and waited.

It didn't take long. Edward pulled up in the driveway. He had the top down, as he always did when he drove it, but for once, didn't have his music blasting. Disdaining the door, he hopped out and trotted up the driveway, his eyes snapping around, his face and posture screaming tension. Edward's reddish-brown hair was a mess as usual, a contrast with the sharp perfection designer suits he always wore, but somehow he carried it off.

"Hey", Emmett said from the balcony.

Edward looked up and his face flooded with relief."I've been looking for you everywhere," he said, his British accent particularly crisp, as it was when he was angry. "I followed your scent here." He looked around. "_Why_ are you here?"

A question Emmett didn't want to answer. He was working on his response when Bella called his name from the kitchen. Edward raised an eyebrow and jumped up onto the balcony. Emmett wanted to block the doorway. Women flocked to Edward, stylish, handsome and witty whereas Emmett was huge, clumsy and tongue-tied. Emmett would vastly prefer if Edward never laid eyes on Bella, but there was no avoiding it; she called Emmett's name again. Emmett sighed in surrender and led Edward into the kitchen. He noticed the instant when Edward caught her scent. He went still and his eyes went wide, snapping to Emmett with sudden understanding.

"Could you please reach into the top cab-" Bella froze as she laid eyes on the newcomer.

"Hello, love," Edward said, flashing her his patented crooked smile. British badboy in Armani. Women swooned.

Bella did not. Her cheeks pinkened and she retreated back a step. Edward glanced at Emmett, giving him a cue to speak. "Bella, this is my friend Edward. Edward, Bella."

"Apt name," Edward purred. He put out a hand, probably to take hers and kiss it, but Bella did not extend her own. Edward simply smirked and dropped his hand to his side.

"I was worried when you didn't come home," Edward said to Emmett, his light green eyes boring into his friend's. "Usually you leave a note."

"The two of you live together?" Bella asked.

"We're room mates," Edward replied, avoiding any misconceptions. He lowered his voice to a conspirational whisper. "Emmett's not my type."

Bella gave a little chuckle and turned back to her stove. "Emmett, could you please get me the large dish from the cabinet above the refrigerator?"

He complied. From there, Bella began to direct the two men as if they had been hired specifically for the task. Edward was a bit surprised to find himself suddenly under this small general's command, but he obeyed without question.

They transferred food from their cooking pots into insulated bowls with snapping lids and packed them into the wagon. The distilled water was used to make a pitcher of tea (Emmett had never known there was such a thing as organic tea bags), sweetened with unbleached organic sugar. The last things packed were a stack of Royal Doulton plates, a sheet of bubblewrap between each, a set of glasses in a box and a wood chest of sterling silverware.

"What the fuck is she doing?" Edward asked as they arranged the items per her instructions.

"I have no idea," Emmett confessed.

"All set!" Bella said brightly. She handed Emmett a duffel bag and grabbed the wagon handle. She went out the front door of the house and started down the street, Emmett and Edward trailing behind.

Edward was the one who asked.

"We're taking dinner to some of my friends," Bella explained. "They can't cook themselves a nutritious home-made meal, and so I bring them one three times a week. At least I know they're getting good food on those nights."

"Very kind of you," Edward complimented.

Bella blushed. "It's no trouble. I like cooking."

The neighborhoods through which they walked became steadily worse. He saw Edward's brow wrinkle with consternation as they left the safe blandness of the suburbs and entered the outskirts of the city.

All the while, Edward and Bella chatted, Emmett trailing behind them. Rather, Edward chatted and Bella answered in monosyllables. She was one of the rarest of creatures: a person who did not like to talk about themselves. She would reply to inquiries about books she'd read, local politics, movies and so on, but when it came to her personal lie, she answered vaguely or not at all.

Emmett was in despair. By the time he thought of a line to contribute to the conversation, they had moved on to another topic. He had a sinking feeling in his gut. It wouldn't be the first time a woman had lost interest in him in favor of his suave and gorgeous friend.

He consoled himself that at least he was learning a few things about her. She was twenty-four and had lived alone since her parents had been killed in a car accident a few years prior. Her father, Charlie, had been in real estate. Her mother, Renee, had been a school teacher.

They crossed over a poorly maintained bridge and Bella immediately steered them to the left, dragging the wagon down a dirt path. On the underside of the bridge, men were setting up makeshift tables: a sheet of plywood across two sawhorses, a large wood crate, a folding card table with only three legs (they propped the edge upon the crate to steady it) and a door laid across a large spool which had once held some sort of cable. Seats were brought. A few chairs, crates, a stump, even a broken television shared by two.

Poorly dressed, dirty people were swarming into the area seemingly from out of nowhere. Bella took the bag from Emmet and started distributing the contents: white linen table cloths and napkins, ornate silver candlesticks and trivets. The tables were covered quickly and neatly. One man opened the wagon and retrieved the plates. Another started setting the silverware. When they had finished, it looked like a formal setting in any fine restaurant, excepting, of course, the fact that each table was a different height. The napkins had even been folded into fans. The fine china and silver gleamed in dirty hands.

Bella put on her mitts and started placing the food containers onto the trivets. Everyone pitched in, a coordinated dance that showed familiarity.

Finally, they all took their seats. Twenty people of various ages, races and genders, all of them homeless. Bella stood to the side with Emmett and Edward. An older man wearing a tattered suit took place at the head of the table and cleared his throat. "Shall we say grace?" Everyone around the table joined hands and bowed their heads. The man began to pray aloud. Emmett noted that Bella did not bow her head. As soon as the last "Amen" had sounded, Bella began putting serving implements in each dish. Hungry as they must be, everyone politely passed plates, dished out food and waited for everyone to be served before beginning. Once they began to eat, the decorum slipped a little with their haste, but everyone tried to remain polite.

"What the fuck is this?" Edward said, his voice low so Bella could not overhear. She was chatting with the man in the suit and dishing out seconds. "She's friends with twenty homeless people? How long do you think she's been coming down here in the fucking _dark_? Jesus, it's a miracle she hasn't been-" He cut off, but Emmett knew what he was thinking.

As the meal finished, Bella began collecting dirty plates. Emmett noticed she was wearing latex gloves, but decided he'd ask about them later. The people thanked Bella, complimented her on her cooking and made requests for Friday's meal.

The man in the tattered suit stood. He gave a courtly little bow to Bella and complimented the meal before making his way over to Emmett and Edward. "I know what you are," he said without preamble. He kept his voice low as to not be overheard but hatred coated every word.

"Oh?" Edward said, arching a brow in challenge. "What might that be?"

"Vampires!" the man hissed.

"Vampires don't exist, old man," Edward drawled.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Kindly refrain from insulting my intelligence. Your kind prey on my people, those on society's fringes, and rarely bother to conceal themselves because they know we won't be believed. Not that anyone cares if the homeless are thinned out. No one cared when Maggie vanished. The police wouldn't even take a report. They said she'd probably just moved on. No one cared about my friend David. Just a bum found in the river, his throat torn open, his death attributed to a robbery. But I saw the one who did it, even if no one believes me."

Edward dropped the pretense. "Killing mortals is against the code of our kind."

"Ha!"

"It's true," Emmett confirmed. "We do have laws. Killing mortals risks our exposure. We will call down the Volturi, our queen's enforcers."

The man scoffed again and kicked a clump of earth with his battered loafers. "What do you want with our Bella?"

Both men were silent.

"That's what I thought," the man said grimly. "I won't let you hurt her."

Edward wasn't cruel. He didn't laugh. He nodded gravely as if he respected the old man in the filthy, tattered Brooks Brothers suit as a worthy opponent. "Perhaps you won't believe it, but neither of us has any desire to harm Bella."

"You're right. I don't believe you. But there's little I can do."

"There you are!" Bella chirped, coming over to their small group with bundled linens in arms. "Could you help me fold these, please? Mr. Grayson, did you want me to leave you a plate of leftovers? The vegetables and bread should keep for another night."

"Thank you, but no. If I broke one of your lovely plates, I'd never forgive myself." Mr. Grayson smiled tenderly at Bella.

"I have service for forty, Mr. Grayson. If you did break a plate, it would hardly be a tragedy."

"Nevertheless, I must decline." He bowed to her and walked away, toward the bridge that served as home to their small tribe.

Once everything was packed in the wagon, they the journey back to Bella's house. This time it was Emmett who spoke up first. "Bella, it's sort of dangerous to be walking down here at night."

Bella shook her head. "No one has ever bothered me. Besides, I have my cell phone. And sometimes, Mr. Grayson walks me home."

Protected by a frail homeless man. Jesus.

Edward spoke up. "Perhaps you should drive."

"I don't have a car," Bella replied.

"How long have you been doing this?"

"About six months now."

At that, Edward began to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut tightly with frustration.

"Why don't you work in a soup kitchen?"

Bella was silent for a moment. "I did, for a little while. One of the local chruches had a daily meal for the poor. It's just... I didn't like how the people were treated."

"In what way?" Emmett asked.

"It was the little things. They made them all wait outside until the 'official' time the kitchen was open. Even when it was cold. I never understood why they couldn't let them wait inside. The kitchen and serving area was in the basement. They could have let the people sit in the pews, and they wouldn't have been in the way. But they made them wait in a line outside. It felt like it was a... status thing. Maybe I'm just over-thinking it."

"You seem rather perceptive to me," Edward commented. "So maybe you were reading it correctly."

"They fed them cheap, low-nutrient, processed food. And there was this hostility, like 'You should be grateful for what you _get_.' And don't get me wrong, the people _were_ grateful, but it was like they didn't matter as much as regular people. I asked one of the cooks one time, 'Would you feed this to your kids?'" Bella sighed. "I know all of this sounds silly, but it bothered me. It bothered me that they were given their food on disposable plates with plastic forks that kept breaking while they were trying to eat. It bothered me that it was such a sterile, impersonal, institutional-style environment. There was no effort to make it nice. So, I decide if I was going to feed people, I'd do it my way."

Edward cleared his throat, a sound that was more habit than anything. "Bella, doesn't your expensive silverware get stolen?"

"It happened a couple of times, but the others made them give it back." She shrugged. "And if I did lose it, it's really no big deal. It's not like I throw a lot of dinner parties. I think my mom would be happy it's getting some use." She tilted her head and gazed at Edward speculatively. "You've kept me chatting about myself, but you haven't told me anything about you guys."

"What would you like to know?"

"For starters, how long have you and Emmett been friends?"

"Since college," Edward lied smoothly. Emmett had always admired his ability to make up details on the fly and, more importantly, remember them. "Emmett was my room mate. We were in the same program and we got along well, so it just made sense to keep sharing expenses when we graduated and set out to find jobs."

"What do you do?"

Edward was apparently inspired by a newspaper that blew by."We work for the _Daily Recorder."_

"Reporters?"

"No, we're investigators. We gather information for the stories. Other people get the glamour." A quick way of explaining why she'd never see a byline with their names.

"Seems like you'd be perfect for the glamour part," Bella said and then flushed scarlet. "Uhh, did I say that out loud?"

Edward laughed. "Quite all right."

"But you're English, aren't you? How did you come to be in one of our universities?"

Edward spun a yarn about his family immigrating when he was a teenager. Truthfully, they hadn't lived in England for more than a century, nor was Edward originally from England, but he used the accent because women found it attractive. Emmett was more practical and always tried to adapt his speech patterns to wherever they happened to live.

They arrived back at Bella's house. Edward held the door open for Bella as she steered the wagon through it. "So, Bella, have you seen the new Edward Norton film? Supposed to be quite good. No? Would you like to go see it with me tomorrow evening? Dinner afterwards?"

Bella's face was crimson and she stammered a bit. "I... I uh, I don't like to go to restaurants."

Edward shrugged. "We could have dinner here if you liked."

Still red-faced she accepted.

"I'll pick you up at seven," Edward said and gave her one of those crooked smiles. Bella stuttered her thanks as he strode toward the Stingray. "See you at home, Emmett?"

"Yeah," Emmett muttered, resentment burning. _Goddamit._ Edward smirked and peeled out of the driveway. Bella watched until he disappeared and then gave a little sigh. She pulled the wagon into the kitchen.

"Need help unloading?" Emmett asked quietly.

Bella smiled. "That would be great, thanks." She put on another pair of latex gloves and ran hot water into the sink, adding copious amounts of bleach and soap. She wouldn't let Emmett wash them. She scrubbed at each plate so vigorously that he was amazed the pattern remained intact. His task was to stack the sparkling plates into the dishwasher. Her pots and pans were stainless steel. Those she attacked with a steel wool pad.

After all of the dishes had been washed and the dishwasher set to the "Sanitize" cycle, Bella attacked the kitchen. Every surface was scrubbed, bleached and scrubbed again. He didn't know why Bella had accepted his help since she seemed compelled to go back and re-clean what he had done. He didn't mind, though she seemed a little embarrassed about it.

It was after midnight when she ran water into a bucket and poured in another heaping helping of bleach. "Just have to mop the floor and then we're done."

"Where's your mop stored?"

She shook her head. "I don't have one. They're germy." She put on a new pair of gloves and plopped down onto her hands and knees and began to scrub at the tile with a cloth. Emmett appreciated the view of her lush backside waggling in the air for a moment before grabbing a cloth of his own and kneeling down to help.

"You haven't eaten," he said suddenly.

"I'll fix something when I'm done."

"Why didn't you have some of the food you cooked for your friends?"

"I'm a vegetarian. I cook meat for my friends because that's what they like, but I don't eat it myself."

Light dawned in Emmett's mind. A vegetarian who ate only organic foods without preservatives... She didn't smoke, didn't drink, used distilled water, homeopathic remedies... even her body wash was chemical-free.

That's why she smelled so good, so clean and natural. And suddenly he understood why her scent tugged at his memory. She smelled like the people of his youth, from a time before the human body was flooded with chemicals on a daily basis from their food, medicines and bad habits, back before meat was mass-produced and cheap enough to be a part of the average person's daily diet.

They scrubbed in silence for a while. Bella glanced over at him, rinsing her cloth in the bucket. "You aren't much of a talker, are you?"

Emmett froze, trying to think of something clever, but ultimately ended up saying, "No, I guess I'm not."

Bella smiled. "It's peaceful. I like it."

They finally finished and Bella dumped the bucket of water into the toilet. She set it aside with a satisfied sigh. "Thank you for all of your help."

"I enjoyed it, actually." Emmett said. "I'd like to help you again on Friday, if you'd like." Well, that didn't come out exactly as he'd hoped.

She smiled. He was hoping for a blush but didn't get one. "That's nice of you to offer."

"I meant it."

"Alright, then, I accept. Thank you." She glanced down at her watch. "Can I get you something to eat? You haven't had anything since the sandwich this afternoon."

"I'm fine," Emmett assured her. Pretending to eat in front of a mortal was tricky. They couldn't eat solid food and so anything that went down had to come back up and it was a very painful and unpleasant experience. Thus meals with humans usually involved slight of hand, at which vampires excelled because they could move faster than the eye could see, but as clumsy as Emmett was, he always feared he'd suddenly dump the hidden food onto the floor. "It's late and I should probably let you get get to bed."

Bella shook her head. "I'm not going to bed any time soon. I- Um, actually I was going to go work in my garden."

"How do you garden at night?"

"Would you like to see?"

Emmett nodded. She led him through the living room to a door at the side of the house that led to a metal fire escape. They took the stairs up to the roof and Bella hit a switch at the top of the stairs. The roof blazed with light. Emmett stared in amazement. Bella had a greenhouse on her roof, of all things. She unlocked the door and they stepped into its warm, humid embrace.

She had created something magical with the dozens of box planters about waist high in orderly rows, each filled with well-tended plants. Each corner post had a floodlight and strung between them, criss-crossing over the plants and twined around irrigation pipes were lines of Christmas lights.

"I grow most of my own food," Bella said.

"This is an amazing set-up. Did you do all of this yourself?"

Now he got the blush he'd been hoping to see earlier. She nodded. "I don't have enough space in the yard, and this way, my plants are protected from weeds and pests without having to use a bunch of sprays." She pinched off a a yellowed leaf from a tomato plant.

"My mother was a great gardener," Bella said, her voice soft and wistful. "She grew the most beautiful roses. She could grow most anything but the roses were her pride and joy. I tried taking care of them after she died, but I guess roses are trickier than vegetables."

There were some ornamental plants in the planters around the walls. The one that caught his eye was a _bonsai_ tree. He inspected it with a sense of awe.

"It's over 200 years old," Bella bragged. She had reason to be proud.

"That's amazing. One of your mom's souvenirs?"

"Yes. She and dad lived in Japan for a while before I was born. Her neighbor was a little old man who had this tree. He didn't speak English and Mom didn't speak Japanese, but she'd always go over there for tea and help him tend his gardens. She said it was as peaceful and restoring as an afternoon nap. When they were packing up to move back to the U.S., he came over with one of the neighborhood kids to translate and gave her the tree. He said it was because he said he didn't have long to live and his son was absorbed in modern culture and didn't care about the 'old ways.' He thought Mom would be good for the tree." Bella tested the dampness of its soil with her finger. "He was right. Mom really loved it and taught me to respect it too. She said this tree would outlive us. Hundreds of years from now, when we are nothing but dust, it would still be around. We were just its temporary guardians. It would have many in its long life."

There was a lesson in there somewhere about human mortality and the things we leave behind, but Emmett felt too weary to parse it out. The night was almost over. "Thank you for sharing this with me," he said softly. "I really should be going."

Bella smiled. Every time she did, it felt like a gift. "Thank you for all of your help this evening. Will... Will I see you on Friday?"

"Count on it," Emmett said firmly. For the first time in such a long while, he felt like he had something to look forward to and it felt wonderful.


	3. Impressions

Chapter 3

Impressions

Emmett delayed returning to his and Edward's apartment for as long as the darkness would allow. Right after leaving Bella, he had stumbled upon-literally- a drunk college student his bloodlust had roared back full-force. It had been a week since he'd last had any blood; as numb as he'd been, he hadn't noticed the passing time.

"Hello," he said, after the young man crashed into his chest

"H-Hey..." the kid answered, tilting his head up, up, blinking rapidly and trying to focus his bleary eyes, finding Emmett's face far above him. Intimidated by Emmett's size, he stumbled back a step. "Whoa, sorry, man..."

Emmett locked eye contact with him. Instantly his mind flooded with the sounds of the kid's thoughts.

-_Crap, that guy's huge - Shouldn't have drank so much - What does he want?- What'd I do with my phone?-_

"Stand still," Emmett commanded, and pushed the kid's head over to one side. "You won't feel a thing." Gently, he bit and drank, awash with relief as the blood rushed to his parched tissues. He pulled back before the kid could suffer any ill effects, sealing the wound with his saliva. The mark would be healed within minutes and aside from a slight headache (which the kid would probably attribute to all the beer he'd consumed) and being a little dehydrated, the kid would be fine.

"You won't remember this," Emmett told him.

The kid nodded serenely. Emmett sent him on his way, watching as the kid wove and bumbled his way toward the bus stop.

Emmett swayed a bit himself. The kid had dank a lot more than Emmett had seen in his memory. Feelin' no pain, he reached his apartment building about an hour before dawn. He gave the doorman a goofy grin and the doorman smile back, instantly recognizing the smile of the happily intoxicated. Emmett entered the elevator and punched at the panel with his index finger until he managed to hit the button for the penthouse floor. As soon as the doors opened, he heard something that made his pleasant buzz retreat and his heart sink.

Edward was playing the piano, something he hadn't done in a long time and Emmett feared to speculate as to the reason for his renewed inspiration. Smoke curled from the ashtray perched on the top. Edward stopped playing as Emmett came through the door, and retrieved the cigarette, one of those Russian black-papered brands he loved so much. "There you are."

"Here I am," Emmett agreed.

Edward sniffed. "You smell like a brewery and a Clorox factory. Not the best of combinations."

"I helped Bella clean her kitchen, and then had a bite on the way home. Only college kids get drink on a Wednesday night."

Edward gave him a speculative look. "Interesting girl, Bella."

Emmett scowled. He had the childish urge to shout, _I saw her first!_

Edward chuckled. "Don't look at me like that. As the saying goes, _He who hesitates, masturbates_."

"She's not your type."

Edward stabbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. "Emmett, _everyone_ is my type." Emmett had to concede that it was the truth. Vampires were notoriously flexible in their sexuality, especially the older ones. After several centuries, boredom or perhaps curiosity would soften boundaries and preferences.

"Not Bella. She's a nice girl, not a casual fuck."

"Every girl's a casual fuck for the right man." Edward asserted and Emmett had to admit he'd never known Edward to fail when he was intent on seduction. He could only hope Edward would lose interest if Bella proved to be more effort than Edward cared to exert.

"Don't fret. With her OCD tendencies, I doubt I'll even get to first base."

"'First base'? What, are we in high school? And what do you man by that OCD crack?"

Edward lit another cigarette. "You didn't pick up on it? Refusing to touch other people, the gloves, the bleach?"

Emmett considered. "She's not taking medication for it."

Edward sighed. "No, she's not. God, she smells good. Hmm... that lush, curvy figure of hers. Reminds me of the good ole days when girls didn't starve themselves into stick figures."

"Don't hurt her, please," Emmett said softly. He walked over to the window stared out over the vista of city lights. The automatic shades would close soon, effectively sealing out any sunlight and protecting them during their most vulnerable hours. "She's a good person, Edward. Genuinely good. You don't see that very often."

Edward put out his cigarette, half-smoked. "You worry too much. Ah, yes... before I forget..." He stood, reached into his pocket and fished out the key to Emmett's Stingray. He walked over, grabbed Emmett's hand and slapped the key into it. Emmett looked away hastily, hiding from the knowledge in Edward's eyes. He didn't know what to say, how to explain.

"Try anything like that again and I'll kill you myself," Edward said succinctly. He closed Emmett's fingers around the key and dropped his hand. Emmett stared at the parquet floor. He struggled for something to say, a way to express how he'd felt over the last few month- no, the last few _years-_ why he'd tried it and why he'd allowed Bella to save him but words failed. He simply turned and retreated, going into his bedroom and closing the door behind him. After a few moments, he heard Edward resume playing, a haunting melody he didn't recognize.

* * *

><p>Bella stared into her closet helplessly. It was filled with the long, loose dresses she preferred, and none of them suggested themselves as being "date clothes."<p>

Her first date. And she had absolutely no idea what to wear.

She wished she had a girlfriend who could assist her. Someone who could help her pick the exact right outfit, to help with her hair, to dispense advice. Someone to share the excitement. Bella wanted to giggle, but giggling alone seemed uncomfortably close to crazy.

Twenty-four and going out on her first date. How pathetic was that? Her circle of acquaintance was small and she knew few people of her own age. And those she had known had been cruel about what her father had referred to as "Bella's little quirks."

Tears stung her eyes. She missed her father so much. He was the only one who'd ever understood her and accepted her for the way she was. Her mother had been alarmed and had dragged Bella to dozens of therapists, each of whom had a new medication a new treatment which promised turn Bella into a normal person if she just tried hard enough.

"So she likes to clean things. What's the harm?" her father had said. He'd watched with growing concern as the medications alternately turned his daughter into a dead-eyed zombie and a hyperactive ball of nerves. "Damn medicines are worse than the condition they're supposed to fix."

It wasn't that Bella didn't _want_ to be normal. It would have been wonderful to go to school with others her age, to have friends who could come over to the house, have sleep-overs, to dance and kiss boys, to go to the mall and eat at the food court. But she couldn't. Renee had known that something was amiss when Bella was a toddler who would extend her hands and repeat the word "Dirty!" until Renee consented to wash them in the sink. Bella had only made it to second grade before she couldn't take it any more. The other kids had discovered that they could make Bella break down into amusing tears by handling her things, and being hit with a spit wad would send her into hysterics. When Bella began to greet each school morning by sobbing and pretending to be sick, Renee had quit her job teaching high school science and taught Bella at home. Once she was in a quiet, stable environment she could control and keep clean, Bella had excelled academically. She'd graduated high school at fourteen, but, of course, going away to college was out of the question and she didn't see the point in getting a correspondence degree. Working with the public was never going to be an option.

She escaped into books, preferring the fictional world to the real one. When she wasn't reading, she wrote her own books in her head, stories in which she, the main character, could explore the world, fall in love, become a hero. All of the things she'd never be able to do in real life.

She'd spent this afternoon at the local no-kill animal shelter where she volunteered on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Working there had been at the suggestion of one of her therapists, an attempt to acclimatize her to the outside world. It had worked, to a certain extent. Bella didn't see animals as being dirty or germy, nothing that a bit of hand washing wouldn't solve anyway. The humans who worked there were a different story. She knew they all thought of her as a freak, but they knew by now not to enter or touch anything in the small room where Bella worked with the puppies, bathing them and socializing them. She taught them basic obedience to try to make them attractive to potential adopters. (Bella brought her own shampoo for them, an all-natural brand with no chemicals or perfumes.)

At four P.M., she had returned the last puppy to its kennel and walked back to her little house. Her father had bought the property before he died, intending to tear the house down and build something more "marketable" on the valuable lot. A drunk driver on a dark, rainy night had nixed those plans. Without her parents, Bella had felt like a pea rattling around in a drum in the huge estate where she'd grown up and when she'd seen this little house, she knew it would be perfect for her. It was easier to keep clean, certainly. The clunky antique furniture she'd kept over-crowded the rooms and probably looked very strange but she was content with it and besides, who did she have to impress? Edward and Emmett had been the only people who'd ever been inside.

Edward... thinking of him brought her back to her immediate dilemma: what to wear. Renee had always tried to coax her daughter into wearing cute, trendy clothing in bright colors, not understanding why Bella would want to fade into the background in her shapeless dresses. Now Bella wished she had saved some of those clothes. She glanced at her watch. There wasn't time to buy anything else and wash it before Edward would arrive.

Why had she said yes when he'd asked her out? The word had tumbled from her mouth before Bella could stop it. The only other boy to ever ask her out had been Jacob Black, her neighbor at the old house, and she was pretty sure he'd just been humoring his mother by asking. Edward was as handsome and charming as one of the heroes in her books. Why on earth he'd want to spend time with Bella was unknown, unfathomable. Maybe he had poor eyesight. Those mint green eyes of his were unusual. Perhaps their color indicated some weakness in his vision.

_"Mrow._" Her cat slipped into the room and rubbed against her ankles.

"Hello, Beautiful," she said, scooping him up for a hug. "Got any suggestions as to what I should wear tonight?"

"_Mrow_."

Bella set her jaw and grabbed a dress off its hanger. She wasn't Miss Fashionable, so why try to pretend? She deposited the cat on her bed and he curled up in a patch of warm late afternoon sunlight. She turned on the shower in the bathroom, carefully checking the curtain for any signs of mold before closing it around her. One of the first things she'd done with this house was install an instant hot water heater (so much more sanitary than a traditional hot water heater and not limited by capacity.) She showered carefully, using her favorite freesia soap, washing her hair twice. She checked her body for any sign of any unsanitary hair but she'd just waxed a few days prior and saw no signs of stubble. Her body was as smooth as a marble statue, and due to her aversion to sunlight, almost as pale.

When she finally felt clean of the day's accumulated dirt and germs, she stepped out onto a towel and wrapped her body in another. Before she dressed she stepped on the scale and frowned at the number that appeared. Along with never being Miss Fashionable, she'd never be Miss Skinny, either. She'd inherited her mother's short, rounded figure. Renee had tried every diet known to man and cheated on them all, losing and re-gaining the same twenty pounds throughout Bella's entire childhood. Bella had just accepted that nature intended her to be what her father had always called "pleasingly plump." She wasn't going to achieve the fashionable scrawniness unless she starved herself and Bella enjoyed the culinary arts too much for that. Still, she had to monitor her weight. With as little exercise as she got, it would be easy to tip over from "plump" to "fat" if she indulged too much.

She pulled the dress on and left her hair to dry naturally. She caught the sides up in a barrette at the back of her head. There wasn't much else she could do with it. She didn't own a curling iron, and creating a neat braid behind her head using only a mirror was a skill level her fumbling fingers had never achieved.

She had some time before Edward was scheduled to arrive. She curled up on her pillowy settee in the second bedroom that she'd transformed into a library. It was wonderfully comfortable, like snuggling into a cloud despite the plastic sheeting she'd layered over it to prevent flakes of skin from becoming embedded in the upholstery and hosting dust mites. Horrid things, dust mites.

When the doorbell rang, she was so engrossed in the story she was reading that it took a moment to snap back into reality and understand why someone would be at her door. She put the book aside and hurried down the hall. She pulled open the door and Edward stood there smiling, looking so gorgeous that she could do nothing but stare for a moment. He wore a long black wool overcoat with a charcoal suit beneath. In the crook of his arm lay a bouquet of lilies wrapped in tissue paper in graduating shades of pink.

"Hello," he said, his smile revealing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth.

Bella blinked.

"May I come in?" Edward asked.

"Oh!" Bella jumped a little. "Uhm, yeah... I... uh.. Yeah." She stepped back and Edward tossed her a grin as he passed. God, he smelled good. She took in a deep breath and tried to identify the scent but failed. Emmett had the same kind of delicious, intangible sent. It must be what their home smelled like, she decided, a scent which clung to their clothes. Whatever it was, she wished she could buy a bottle of it.

He waited until she had shut the door to present the bouquet of flowers. "These are for you."

They were stunning. Bella's throat tightened as she touched a silky petal. _Do not cry. Do not cry._ "Edward, I don't know what to say. Thank you. They're lovely." No one had ever given her flowers.

"You're welcome."

"Please, have a seat while I put these in water." Bella gestured to the Louis XVI oval-backed sofa and hurried into the kitchen. She heard the plastic crinkle as he sat. She reached the counter and remembered she didn't have a vase. She'd broken the Waterford crystal vase which had belonged to her mother and she'd never had a need for another. Inspiration struck and she pulled down a glass pitcher, filled it with water and deposited the flowers inside.

"People generally remove the paper before they put the flowers in water," Edward said.

Bella gave a little squeak and jumped. "Goodness, I didn't hear you come in!" Feeling a little stupid, she lifted the bouquet and pulled off the tissue paper and stuffed the soggy mess in her garbage can.

Edward was holding her cat, stroking his tattered ears. "There's a packet of flower food in there."

Bella plucked it out and looked at it dubiously. Some sort of chemical no doubt. She set it down beside the vase and turned to wash her hands. "I see you met Beautiful."

Edward chuckled. "Did you give him that name out of a sense of irony?"

Bella tried not to be offended. "He really _is_ beautiful," she said carefully. "He's got a very warm and gentle heart, even if his exterior has a few scratches and dents." Beautiful had been one of the residents of the shelter, and it was pretty much acknowledged that he'd probably never find a home. He had the run of the place and his nature was so placid that Bella used to use him to get the puppies used to being around cats. She brought him home with her because they both needed someone to love.

She cleared her throat. "Uhm, did you want to eat before we went to the movie? I didn't cook anything yet because I wasn't sure."

Edward deposited Beautiful on the ground and brushed at the cat hair which had adhered to his sleeves. "Not necessary. Honestly, I'm not very hungry. I had a large lunch."

Bella was relieved. She liked cooking for her friends, but she wasn't sure if her ordinary, simple fare would appeal to this sophisticated man. Edward glanced at his watch. "We should probably be going."

They headed for the door and he suggested she should take a jacket as the weather was cool. She loved the way he spoke, as if he were an artifact of another era. She wondered if it was a trait of being British. She opened the hall closet and fished out her nicest jacket, a hip-length camel coat with a wide belt that had belonged to her mother.

"That looks nice on you," Edward commented, and Bella blushed.

The car waiting in her drive was unlike any she'd ever seen before. It had a strange two-toned hood with a vent shaped like a cartoon mouse-hole in the center where bumper should be and something like gill slits behind the doors. "Wow, what is this?"

"It's a Bugatti Veyron." Edward, ever the gentleman, opened the passenger door for her first.

"It's very nice," Bella complimented, fastening her seat belt. She felt a little sorry for him. He'd obviously wanted a sports car and had to settle for this strange foreign thing.

The interior was spacious, but strangely shaped. The console in the center was large and metallic, the gearshift large and chunky. Even the steering wheel seemed odd. It had a big logo that looked like a backwards "E" blended into a letter "B" but didn't look large enough to contain an airbag. Maybe they didn't come standard on foreign cars. At least the seats were comfortable.

Edward settled in the driver's seat and started the car, shooting out of her driveway like a bullet. The g-force flung Bella back into her seat. She hated riding in cars since her parents had died. Maybe if the accident had been their fault, it might have been different, but they had died because of another person's carelessness, something that they could not prevent, something that could happen at any time to anyone. She made herself take deep breaths and count to one hundred, a coping strategy suggested by one of her doctors, probably the only useful thing she'd gotten out of that year of therapy.

She glanced over at Edward. "You should fasten your seatbelt," she suggested.

She could tell he was considering arguing, but he snapped it in place with a little smile. "Better?"

She would be when they stopped. He drove like a madman. She turned her head toward the passenger window as if she were deeply interested in the dark, blurry scenery so that he could not see her face and shut her eyes. She didn't open them until she felt the car slow and stop. She opened her eyes and saw the neon marquee of the movie theater. It was the only one left in operation in Fort Washington; all of the others had dwindled and died.

"We're here," Edward said, unnecessarily. She unfastened her seatbelt and before she'd even pushed the buckle to the side, he was on her side of the car and opened her door. _Holy smoke, that guy moves fast._

She stood and he offered his arm. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He stood, arm extended, patiently waiting.

Bella took a deep breath. The moment seemed to stretch on forever. _You can do this. Just take his arm. You're just touching his coat. His coat isn't dirty._ Slowly, she extended her hand, reached under his elbow and placed it on his forearm. The smile he gave her made it worth the effort. They walked toward the theater door. When they reached it, he released her arm to open and hold the door for her.

Inside, Edward paid for their tickets and offered to fetch something for Bella from the snack counter. She declined, feeling a little nauseated at the thought of how many hands had reached in the bin to scoop out popcorn after handling money. They went down the hall to their assigned theater. They were early, so the house lights were still up and they had their choice of seating. "Where would you like to sit?" Edward asked.

"I don't know," Bella confessed. "It's my first time in a movie theater, so wherever you think is best."

"It's your first time at the movies?" Edward repeated, his tone surprised.

Bella felt her defenses set to Defcon 2. "Yeah, it is," she confirmed cooly.

Edward gently touched the sleeve of her coat. "I'm glad I could be with you for your first time."

Bella didn't know what to say to that. Her face felt hot and she couldn't meet his gaze. He directed them up toward some seats in the back. Bella climbed the stairs after him, noting the crumbs and bits of trash on the floor with despair. Edward chose a row and stopped at a seat in the middle. "This should be good." The seat was folded up. He pushed it down and sat, slouching comfortably. Bella slipped her hand up inside her sleeve to protect it, and used her arm to push the seat down. She turned and stooped a little but she couldn't bring herself to sit down. The fabric seat covers had to be _filthy_. She would be sitting in other people's skin flakes, food particles and God only knew what else. She thought of her hair touching the back of the seat and shuddered a little. Anxiety began to build. What would she do? Her breath began to come a little faster. Ifs he had a panic attack now, she'd curl up and die of embarrassment.

Edward stood and whipped off his coat. He laid it over the seat, covering it completely. "Better?" he asked gently.

Bella let out the breath she'd been holding. Yeah, the coat was better. She gingerly sat. There were armrests between the seats with cup holders in the end. It was like having a wall of germs on either side of her. Edward noticed her stiffness and guessed the reason. He flipped up the armrests without comment. So much better.

"I'm sorry," Bella said, her voice so soft she wasn't sure he'd be able to hear.

"Why are you sorry?"

"That I'm so...weird." Bella closed her eyes.

"Bella, if something bothered me, I'd tell you. I don't think you're weird."

_Oh, boy. Back to Defcon 2. _"Look, I'm used to it, okay? You don't have to lie to make me feel more comfortable. Everyone else thinks I'm a freak. Why should you be different?"

"I've never let 'what everyone else thinks' guide my opinions," Edward said. "I like you, Bella. I like spending time with you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here."

She gave him a timid smile and reached over to pat his sleeve. It was getting a little easier.

More people began to file into the theater. While Edward was watching some new arrivals, Bella snagged some hand sanitizer from her purse and rubbed it on her hands. It soothed her. Her hands had felt like burning hot zones of bacteria. She didn't know where to put her purse (there was no way in heck she'd put it on that filthy floor) so she just kept it on her lap.

The seats filled and ads began to appear on the screen. People chatted quietly, made themselves comfortable, began enjoying their snacks. The house lights went down and with a blare of sound, the previews began. Edward chuckled when Bella jumped. "That's a characteristic of movie theaters everywhere. They always have the volume overly-high," he whispered into her ear. "You'll get used to it in a few minutes."

It was a long while before the actual movie began. Bella was surprised to see that actual commercials were mixed in with the previews. The movie began and she settled back into Edward's coat. It smelled delicious; it smelled like Edward. Every so often, she'd turn her head a bit to catch a whiff.

Edward spread out more comfortably during the movie, his hand resting beside her thigh. Just a bare inch away. She was careful not to move herself and bump it. She was hyper-aware of that hand. Her mind wandered a bit and she thought about what it would be like to be his girlfriend, what it would be like if he placed that hand on her thigh, tenderly, possessively, _lovingly_.

A love scene began between the main characters of the movie. It wasn't terribly graphic, but it was enough to make Bella grateful that the theater was dark and Edward wouldn't be able to see her blush. She glanced down at his hand again. Had it moved slightly? It seemed closer. Just a small bit away from touching her. What would happen if she moved closer? Would he-

What would he expect tonight? Would he let her out of his car or walk her to the door? When they reached it, would he expect her to invite him in? Surely he knew her well enough to guess that she wasn't the kind of girl to have sex on the first date, but what about a kiss? Did most modern girls kiss on the first date? A handshake seemed a little impersonal. What kind of kiss? A gentle peck or open-mouthed?

Her breath hitched. The anxiety began to build. She wasn't sure she could handle the handshake, let alone having his mouth touch shouldn't have accepted when he asked her out. She couldn't be normal for him. She couldn't-

"Bella?" Edward was speaking her name. She blinked in surprise. The movie was over and the house lights were up. People were stomping down the wide steps toward the door as the credits rolled. Edward held out a hand to help her to her feet. Bella pretend not to see it and gathered up his coat as she rose. She put it in his outstretched hand.

On the drive home, Edward chatted about the movie's plot, special effects and Edward Norton as an actor in general. Bella answered in distracted nods and monosyllables. She couldn't have told someone what they'd watched to save her life. They arrived far too soon at her house and Bella started to hyperventilate because she still didn't have a plan of what to do if he tried to touch her.

Edward exited the car and opened her door. Bella stood, stumbling a bit when she exited. Edward put his hands out to catch her if she fell but she righted herself almost instantly. She decided to make a run for it. She skidded to a halt a few feet from the door. He had beat her there. How, she did not know. Bella trembled, gasping for air. He gazed at her and his expression was slightly sad.

"Bella," Edward said softly. "Close your eyes."

"Wh- what?"

"Close your eyes," he repeated. "Do you trust me?"

She didn't. But shutting her eyes was the best form of hiding available to her at the moment. She squeezed them shut tightly, waiting for God-knows-what.

Something touched her hand. She grasped it instinctively. What the heck? She opened her eyes. Edward was standing next to his Bugatti, a small smile playing on his lips. She looked down at her hand. In her palm was a silver Hershey's Kiss.

He'd given her a Kiss. One that wouldn't distress her but showed his intent.

She looked up at him, exhilarated. He gave her a small wave, climbed into the car and drove off into the night.


	4. Impasse

Chapter 4

Impasse

Emmett spent the evening pacing in the confines of the apartment. He couldn't get Bella out of his mind and he tortured himself with visions of her date with Edward. What were they doing now? Did he really want to know?

He'd seen the pattern hundreds of times before. Bella would fall in love with Edward. She wouldn't be able to help herself. No one could resist Edward when he was intent on seduction. And he would break her heart because he was simply incapable of returning her feelings. When he tired of the game, he would just walk away, like a child dropping a toy that no longer entertained. Emmett would be there to try to patch her back together. It wouldn't be the first time he'd inherited Edward's leftovers.

In the nearly five centuries Emmett had known him, Edward had never formed an emotional attachment to anyone, with Emmett himself being a possible exception. Emmett understood why: a vampire's life would be nothing but an endless cycled of heartbreak as the humans around them aged and died, but Emmett had never managed to achieve Edward's detachment. _Enjoy them, but move on_. Emmett couldn't. His heart was too big, too soft. The grief was inevitable, but the joy made it worth it.

That big heart was what had killed him.

In 1540, Henry VIII was king and married to his fourth wife, the unfortunate Anne of Cleves and Emmett- his name had been something different back then though Emmett couldn't recall it now- had been a dock worker as his father had been before him, his size and strength well-suited to the work. In a time in which the average height for a man was five feet, seven inches, Emmett was considered practically a giant at six feet five inches, especially given his wide shoulders and heavy muscle mass.

He had spent his last evening at the tavern gambling at dice and had won quite a bit. He wasn't a compulsive gambler, so when his winnings had reached the level of three days worth of the wages he earned working at the docks, he'd excused himself from the table, quitting while he was ahead. He'd intended to go home and surprise his mother with the handful of coins (perhaps now they'd be able to get a doctor to see his little brother who had developed a lingering cough last winter) but he never made it. The men he'd been gambling with, whose own families were waiting at home in vain for the wages these men drank and gambled away, decided that he must have cheated and followed him into the dark streets with a knife.

His size and reputation as a skilled brawler usually protected him on his journey home through London's dirty, narrow streets and alleys, but there were four of them and they took him by surprise. They had bribed the bar maid and had hurried through the side streets to set up their ambush in a blind alley. Emmett heard a woman moaning in pain and begging for help. It wasn't an unusual thing to hear in those days before social safety nets, but Emmett couldn't ignore the plight of another human being like the other people hustling through the darkened streets. He went to investigate and that's when they'd jumped him. Emmett didn't remember the fight. The only thing he remembered was lying in the gutter, bleeding out from multiple wounds and staring at his own intestines, knowing that even if they managed to staunch the bleeding, a gut wound was a death sentence. A face had appeared above him, a man with rusty brown hair saying, "Thou hast come to a bad end, friend."

Emmett couldn't speak. Blood was filling his lungs and he gurgled and gasped trying to catch a breath.

"I can deliver thee from thy torment," the man said, crouching down beside him, the tail of his fine doublet trailing in the bloody mud. "But, ye must needs renounce thy life as thou hast lived it. Art thou willing?"

Emmett nodded. A Christian man who'd been assured he'd find a place in heaven, he was still terrified of death. Speaking of it in an abstract way in church was one thing, staring it in the face with only moments left was another.

The man bit his own wrist and held it to Emmett's lips. Emmett recoiled. Doctors bled patients all the time, but he'd never heard of _drinking_ blood as medicine. The man grabbed the back of his neck and braced his head, shoving his bloody wrist into Emmett's mouth and pinching his nose, forcing him to swallow the horrid fluid in his mouth or choke. When he'd judged that Emmett had swallowed enough, he scooped Emmett up in his arms as if he were naught but a child and took him to a nearby inn.

Emmett's memory of the next few hours was mercifully vague but he remembered the pain and violent illness as his body reformed itself within, rejecting and expelling organs it no longer needed and growing what it did. He remembered sitting on one chamber pot, holding another and weeping in horror when he'd vomited and found several teeth in the bowl. "You never need to fear," Edward had told him. "Thou will acquire what is best suited to our nature and the results will be worth thy pains."

Edward had been very kind through the whole awful process. When it was over, he had bathed Emmett's trembling body and tucked him into his own bed. When Emmett awoke the next evening, Edward had announced he'd brought dinner. He held a struggling young woman. Emmett didn't have time to wonder what he meant. He'd launched himself out of the bed and tore into her throat before his mind could catch up to question what he was doing. When he was finished, he looked down at the still body in his arms and gave an inarticulate cry of anguish. It was the barmaid who had lured him to his death.

"I didst entreat thee to cease," Edward said with a shrug, plucking her from Emmett's arms and stuffing her like a ragdoll into a trunk. "Pray, do not condemn thyself for this thing. 'Tis something common to first feedings, and methinks you would rather the trouble befall one who deserved it well."

"Pray tell, what hath I become?" Emmett whispered. "A demon?"

Edward shrugged. "If thou desireth it so. Or be thou an angel, should it please you." His lips twisted in a crooked smile. "And such a one I do profess myself."

"My family-"

Edward shook his head. "Nay, thou shouldst stay from fellowship with thy kin for a time, lest they meet the same fate as the little siren in yon trunk."

It was a while before Emmett had any control over his hunger. He managed to stop the next time Edward brought him "dinner" but on the third time, he tore the victim's throat so badly in his haste that Edward advised him to go ahead and finish draining him, lest the blood go to waste. Emmett didn't understand how Edward could be so blase about killing.

Edward taught him the skills he needed to survive. He learned how to deal with his new, incredibly sharp senses, how to filter out the constant noise and stench of the city. He learned how to read and control human minds, how to erase memories. In time, he learned to control his hunger, for it pained him every time he lost control and took a life. And Edward schooled him in the gentlemanly arts. He learned to read, the deportment and speech of the upper classes and how to dance, though the latter proved difficult as Emmett had somehow not acquired a vampire's natural grace. There was many a girl who walked away from him with sore toes.

The thing he'd never learned, _could _never learn, was how to turn off his emotions. Edward had once suggested that it might come with age and experience but despite the pain, Emmett couldn't harden his heart. An existence without love was lonely. Surely Edward himself recognized that? Why else would he have changed Emmett if not because he was lonely and wanted a friend, an immortal friend he would never lose? (It was a question Edward refused to answer, so Emmett could only speculate.)

Edward's relationships were usually brief, almost wholly physical with little effort on his part to continue any association. He was never overtly mean to his lovers, but indifference can be its own sort of cruelty. Over the course of centuries, there had been many who felt that _they_ were different, that they would be the ones to capture his heart. It had been Emmett who had soothed their tears when they arrived to find Edward in the company of someone else, or had spilled their hearts only to find him replying that he felt it was best that he move on if they were getting too attached. Some of those broken hearts had transferred their loyalty and affection to gentle, kind Emmett who was everything that Edward was not.

They had never directly competed for the attentions of a lover, one of them generally backing out graciously when the other expressed their interest and their tastes tended not to overlap. The lovers Emmett preferred were the types with which one built a relationship and Edward was rarely intrigued enough to bother with that ilk. So, why now? Why Bella who would probably need to be coaxed and acclimated to tolerate hand-holding?

It seemed like years had passed before he finally heart the sound of Edward's Bugatti coming down the street toward their building. Emmett waited impatiently, tapping his fingers on the arm of the sofa. He stood when Edward unlocked their door.

"Hi," Edward said, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it on a nearby chair. "Were you waiting up for me to get home, Dad?"

"Fuck you. How's Bella?"

"You sound like you think I drained her and left her in a ditch."

Emmett sighed. "You know what I mean."

Edward took a seat on the sofa. "Yeah. I know. You're concerned I pushed her too far out of her comfort zone and she reacted with fear or anger and now she'll see both of us as unwelcome intrusions on her safe little world."

Emmett just nodded.

"She's fine." Edward leaned forward to fish a cigarette out of the wooden box on the coffee table. "When I left her, she was all smiles. She was a little uncomfortable with the movie theater, but she handled it. I don't blame her; I've seen cleaner pig sties."

"Why are you doing this?" Emmett asked quietly.

Edward blew out a stream of smoke. "Honestly, I don't know. There's something about her. I don't know what it is, but I'm interesting in finding out."

"I'm interested, too," Emmett said. Their eyes met and locked. Edward was the first to look away.

"I know. Funny how this situation hasn't come up in the last 471 years." They were silent for a long moment but Emmett knew he had to be asking the same question: _Where do we go from here?_

"I'm not backing off," Edward said, abruptly. "She can choose for herself which of us she wants to see."

Emmett said nothing. Because, really, there was nothing to be said, was there?

* * *

><p>"<em>Mrow<em>!"

Bella groaned.

"_MROW_!"

"Just one more hour, please, Beautiful?"

"_MROW_!" Bella didn't need an interpreter to translate. _You said that an hour ago! I want my food now! _A paw began to bat at her nose. Bella tried to hide her face in her pillow, but Beautiful wasn't giving up. Defeated by a ten pound feline. Bella sighed. No wonder she couldn't cope with the world. She couldn't even stand up to her cat. She sat up in bed and pushed her hair out of her face. Two PM. Her eyes widened and she threw the blankets aside. She hadn't realized it was so late. She needed to start cooking.

She shuffled into the kitchen and turn the oven on to pre-heat. She pulled a can of cat food out of the cupboard and fished around in the drawer for the can opener, yawning hugely. Beautiful began to yowl frantically, what Bella called his _Can Opener Aria_, butting his head against her ankles. She removed the lid and grimaced at the scent. Ugh. _Eau De Cat Food_ in the morning. Even this all-natural organic stuff was pungent. She dumped the food into a bowl and set it on the floor. Beautiful attacked it like he hadn't been fed in weeks.

She started the tea pot and went to check the turkey again. Thanksgiving was a month away but Jessica had begged her too cook it and Bella couldn't refuse. The twenty pound dead bird took up a whole shelf in her refrigerator. It had been delivered- yesterday by the Whole Foods market in Fort Washington and was supposed to be organic, free-range and pre-washed with an antibacterial cleanser. Bella didn't trust that and had soaked the bird in a tub of water with enough salt to put the Dead Sea to shame. Microbial life could still exist in the Dead Sea, but she doubted any of those types of germs lingered in her local store.

When the phone rang, she jerked upward in surprise, bashing the back of her head on the underside of a shelf. Phone? What phone? She didn't _have_ a phone. She tracked the sound of the ringing to the balcony. A box bedecked with a jaunty red bow sat on top of her wagon. She approached it with some trepidation because if fiction had taught her anything, it was that ticking, ringing or buzzing packages were best left to the bomb squad. Her name was on a card attached to the box. Below it was written "Open Me."

_Okay, do I obey the box or do I go back into the house, shut the door and pretend it's not there?_ The phone continued to ring. Bela sighed. She leaned through the door, grabbed the box and retreated out of the afternoon sunshine as quickly as possible. She pulled on the ribbon and the box fell open to reveal a little black cell phone, still ringing more loudly than one would expect from such a tiny device. She grabbed an antibacterial towelette from under the sink and gave it a quick rub-down before hitting the green button. "Hello?"

"Hello, Bella," Edward said. "You found your gift."

"Hello, Edward. What is this?"

"It's a telephone, Bella," he said in a teasing voice. "_Tell-eh-fone._ It's an item you did not previously posses despite your statement to the contrary the other day. You told a fib."

_How did he know that_? Bella was not amused. "Yes, Edward, I know it's a phone. I'm asking why you got it for me. I don't _need_ a phone. I don't _want _a phone. If I did, I would _have_ a phone."

"You're a young woman living alone. It's not safe for you to not have a telephone."

_Attention! Attention! We are at Defcon One. This is not a drill_. "Thank you so much for deciding that for me," Bella said and the chill in her tone made Beautiful abandon his bowl of delicious meat mush and slink beneath the kitchen table.

"Bella, wait, please don't get angry." It seemed Edward was finally cluing into the fact that she didn't appreciate his high-handedness.

"Too late."

"Please, I'm sorry. I admit, I had a selfish motive as well. I wanted to be able to hear your voice during the day while I'm trapped here at work."

_Standing down to Defcon Two, General. _"I don't need to you to pay my bills, you know. I have money."

"I didn't mean to imply you had no phone due to poverty. And, Bella, it's not like I spent a fortune on it. It's a prepaid phone to which you add minutes as necessary to keep it active. There's no bill."

She sighed. "I'm still not happy about this, Edward."

"Let me make it up to you."

"How do you propose to do that?"

"I've got tickets for _Aida_ on Saturday night. I thought you might enjoy that a little more than going to the movies. The floor will be cleaner anyway."

Bella had never been to the opera, though she had once seen a filmed performance of _Aida_ on TV. "Edward, people dress up for the opera, don't they? I don't have anything fancy like that."

"Taken care of," Edward announced and the red telephone in her brain began to ring.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked in dark tones.

"Bella, trust me, please? I just want you to have a fun experience, so let me take care of the little details."

Clothing was not a "little detail" to her."Edward, I don't think this will work."

"Have faith, love."

She sighed again. "I have to go. I need to start cooking."

"All right. You're not upset, are you?"

"No, I suppose not. You mean well."

He laughed. "That I do. Take care, love. I'll call you tonight."

Bella hit the "END" button and stuffed the phone into her pocket. Stupid, sexy, phone-buying man.

* * *

><p>Around seven, after the sun had set, she heard a car pull into her driveway. She went outside to investigate. It was Emmett, driving that bright red antique car. "I thought that belonged to Edward," she called down from the balcony.<p>

"No, it's mine. I- uh, - I left him the keys on Tuesday night." Emmett climbed the stairs.

Ah, yes. The night he'd tried to kill himself. He wouldn't meet her eyes. He looked better, she noted, not as pale and strung-out as he'd been when she found him on the edge of the cliff. She'd been pretty sure he was in some sort of withdrawal; she'd seen the symptoms before. Now that he looked better, did that mean he'd kicked the habit or was back to using again? She wondered if she should respect his privacy or discuss it with Edward. Ultimately, she decided to err on the side of caution. If he wanted to talk about it, he would.

They went into the kitchen. "Do you know how to knead bread?" Bella asked leading him over to a large bowl on the island.

Emmett had a flash of memory, his mother baking. She'd never taught him because in those days, cooking was "woman's work" but he had watched. It couldn't be too hard, could it?

"It's already raised twice," Bella said. "It just needs punched down and put in the pans to bake." She sprayed the counter top with bleach, scrubbed then dried it vigorously and sprinkled flour over the surface. Emmett went to the sink and carefully washed his hands with her antibacterial soap. "I think I can handle it," he said. "I remember watching my mother bake when I was a kid."

"Where's your family now? Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Bella turned back to the stove and checked the boiling potatoes.

"No, they're gone." Emmet pulled the big wad of dough out of the bowl and plunked it down onto the flour patch. "My father died when I was very young; I don't remember him. My mother and younger brother both died of..." He had to think quickly to find a modern disease that would fit. "Uhh... the bird flu."

"Your mother and brother died of H1N1?" Bella turned to stare at him. He wished he'd been able to come up with something better. "Gosh, when did this happen?"

"About ten years ago," Emmett said and saw from her confused expression that something was off. "They... uh... they didn't realize it was the Bird Flu back then." Oh, fuck, he was such a moron. Bella turned back to the stove and switched off the burner under the potatoes. She picked up the pot to carry it to the sink. "Let me get that for you," Emmett offered and she stepped away. He carried the pot to the sink and dumped the contents in the strainer. He had to admire her work: every potato was perfectly peeled without a speck of skin remaining and they had been chopped into perfectly uniform squares.

"Oh no!" she gasped.

"What?"

"The water," she pointed, her face aghast. "You didn't get scalded?"

He looked down. His t-shirt was soaked at the stomach where the boiling water must have splashed up and hit him. He hadn't even felt it. Vampires could sense changes in temperatures, but weren't harmed by them. He could have stuck his hand in the boiling water and fished out the potatoes without being hurt. "No, it's just my shirt that's wet," he said quickly. "I didn't get hit. See?" He tugged his shirt over his head and showed her his unburned abdomen.

Bella's jaw fell. She stared at his chest. His wide, muscled, hairless chest. He was as pale as Bella herself, but perfectly cut. He had a six-pack for heaven's sake, something she'd only seen in airbrushed models.

She hoped she wasn't drooling.

She wondered if she could spill something on his pants.

Yesterday, he'd been a fellow human being in distress and her primary concern was to help him through his dark night of the soul. Today, she really _looked_ at him, and boy howdy, did she like what she saw. He was huge, and beside him she felt tiny and petite. His dark hair was curly and he wore it short. Bella guessed that he hated those curls and the shortness was an attempt to eradicate them. His eyes were a soft, light brown, an unusual shade that made her wonder if he wore contacts. His face was strong, chiseled, masculine. He would have been a perfect Marlboro man. And he was in her kitchen with his shirt off. _Holy cow!_

Emmett noticed her expression and if he could have blushed, he would have. He pulled his shirt back on, turning so she wouldn't see his elated grin. _She was attracted to him!_ He could hear her heart beating faster than normal, could smell the blood rushing to her face. He wanted to dance. He wanted to strut. He wanted to call Edward and gloat. He strolled back to the mound of dough on the island and started working it with his hands, trying for "casual."

Bella hid her blush by turning to the stove and checking the turkey. _Mind on the food, Bella. _She basted the bird with some of its own juices and shut the door. This was the only part she disliked about cooking for her friends. She hated cooking meat. _Charred, rotting flesh. Yummy._ It always made her gag when she had to handle it and the smell turned her stomach. That was another thing her mother had never been able to understand. She'd tried sneaking meat into her daughter's diet by hiding it in other foods, including one memorable experience with a "vegetable smoothie." Bella laughed softly.

"A penny for your thoughts," Emmett said.

"I was just thinking about my mother and how she used to try to get me to eat meat. She turned to stealth and, well, the results weren't very pleasant."

"Were you always a vegetarian?"

"Since I was old enough to think about what I was eating. It just seems... repulsive. Don't get me wrong, I'm not like one of those P.E.T.A. hard-core vegetarians who think everyone should be a vegetarian because meat is morally wrong. Nature designed us to be omnivores; that's why we have the teeth for it. It's just my personal choice and I don't condemn others who want to have a different diet. I don't eschew all animal products. I eat eggs and sometimes dairy, if I can see where it comes from."

He hadn't heard anyone use the word _eschew_ in conversation in over a hundred years. "What do you mean about seeing where it comes from?"

"I buy my dairy products from a woman who has a little farm about ten miles from here. She's almost as stringent as me when it comes to cleanliness." Bella pulled a bread pan from the cupboard and gave Emmett a little smile. "You don't have to ignore the elephant in the room. I know I'm strange."

"Bella, the only thing that bothers me is the idea you might let your issues hold you back from things you want to do. Other than that, if you're happy, what does it matter if you want to bleach the hell out of everything?"

She smiled, relieved. "You sound like my dad. My mom always thought if we found the right drug or the right therapist, it would make me normal."

"Bella, if my long existence has taught me anything, it's that there's no such thing as 'normal'."

"Oh yes, you ancient thing," Bella teased. "What are you, all of twenty-five?"

He'd been around that age when he was changed, maybe a bit older. There was no way to be sure because his birth was never recorded and people of his social class didn't celebrate birthdays. "Sometimes, it feels like a lot longer," he said.

"A couple of my doctors thought I'd age out of it, but they were wrong. It's getting worse," Bella confessed. "I used to be able to go out in sunlight, but now..."

"Why does sunlight bother you?"

"I had an aunt who died of skin cancer. Over the last couple of years, every time I feel sunshine on my skin, it feels like the light is eating down into my skin. That's why I built the garden on the roof that I could tend at night." Bella was embarrassed. What in the world had come over her to make her want to tell him these things? Any moment now, he'd make some excuse about an appointment he'd forgotten and the last she'd see of him would be his tail lights.

But Emmett just shrugged. "See, you found a way around it, a way to cope with your problem so that you could still do what you wanted. You're a smart girl, Bella."

She didn't feel smart. She stirred a pot more vigorously than necessary.

"Tell me something: If you could do anything in the world you wanted to do, what would it be?"

"You'll laugh." Bella saw the mess he was making of kneading the dough and took over, forming loafs to put into the pans.

"I promise I won't laugh. Tell me."

Bella took a deep breath. "Okay. I would create a restaurant for the homeless." She waited for the derision.

It never came. Emmett looked thoughtful. "What sort of place do you envision?"

"Okay, I know it sounds weird, but I kept thinking about how the poor and the homeless just get whatever the shelter is cooking that day. I'm the same way with what I cook for my friends. They make requests, of course, but I can't please everybody at the same meal. So what I thought about was a restaurant that would be just like any other place, where they could choose from a menu, have fine dishes prepared by a real chef, eat at a table that had nice plates and flatware and linen napkins. A place where they were respected just like a paying customer in a nice restaurant. I'd put a few washers and driers and some shower stalls in the back so they could clean up before dinner if they wanted and wash their clothes while they were eating."

"Why don't you do it? You have the funds, don't you?"

"Funding isn't the problem. The problem is all the stuff that goes into it. I don't know about building codes and permits and inspections and all the that. I just want to cook. And, well, I don't know if I could handle being around that many people, all the germs..." Bella put the bread pans into the oven.

Someone rang the doorbell at the front door. Bella looked puzzled. "Who could that be?"

"I'll get it," Emmett offered. He strode through the living room and opened the door. It was a deliveryman holding a large flat box. Emmett signed for it and laid it on the sofa. "What is it?" Bella asked.

"Dunno. Open it and see."

Bella pulled off the lid and stared. It was a dark blue dress with a note on top.

"_Bella," _it read. _"A dress for our night at the opera. I had the seamstress craft a removable, washable liner for it. She assured me the dress had never been worn, so if you wash the liner, you shouldn't have to worry about germs. Edward."_

Emmett pulled the dress out and held it aloft for her inspection. It was lovely. Ankle-length with a soft, floaty skirt, long sleeved with a an empire waist. The bodice was plain, unadorned with a satin sash the same color as the dress tied around the waist. The liner was attached by snap buttons. Bella pressed her hands to her cheeks as tears sprung into her eyes. It was the kind of dress she would have chosen for herself.

The box held another surprise, a flat velvet box. Bella picked it up and opened it. Inside nestled a matching set of jewelery comprised of square dark blue stones, each circled in clear stones, joined together like a chain. There was a necklace, a bracelet and earrings. She shook her head at those because her ears weren't pierced, but on closer inspection they were designed for non-pierced ears. A thin gold wire rested on the back of the ear and curled up to hold the blue stone against the lobe. She picked up the necklace and was surprised by its weight. She wondered what the blue stones were. They looked like sapphires, of course, but that was absurd. A real necklace like this would cost millions. Probably glass. _Harry Winston_ read the label inside the box. Well, thank goodness it wasn't Tiffany or something because she knew that even costume jewelry from Tiffany cost a bundle.

The phone in her pocket rang. She answered it. "Hi, Edward."

"Has the delivery arrived?"

"Yes, but Edward, I can't accept this."

"Why not?"

"It's so expensive-"

"Stop," Edward said softly. "Please. Don't let yourself get upset about it. I _like_ giving gifts. And it would give me great pleasure to see you wearing these things."

"Edward, the jewelry set is really too extravagant."

"It belonged to my sister," Edward said and Emmett struggled not to snort. _Liar_. Edward never had a sister, certainly not one in the Harry Winston era. "Things like that should be worn and enjoyed, not sitting in a drawer collecting dust."

"Edward-"

"Please," he said softly.

Bella chewed her lip. Extravagance bothered her, especially things like the real version of the necklace set. It felt morally wrong to waste money on things like that when there were so many hungry people in the world. She couldn't control what others did, but she could avoid conspicuous consumption in her own life. But just once, _just once_, she could let a handsome man make her feel like a princess. Edward would get tired of her soon. She would need good memories like these when she was alone again. "All right," she said.

"Wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow at seven."

Bella hung up the phone. Before she put it away, she asked for Emmett's number, which he was only too pleased to give her. An idea was forming in his mind. Edward could take her out on fancy dates and buy her a queen's set of sapphires, but Emmett would be the one to make her dream come true.

* * *

><p>The turkey was a smash hit with the Bridge People.<p>

After they finished cooking, Bella packed the wagon and only then noticed that the turkey wouldn't fit. She felt like a moron because she hadn't even considered it. Last year, she'd taken a cab, so maybe she should-

"I'll carry it," Emmett offered.

"Emmett, you can't carry a 20 pound turkey on a serving tray two miles."

"Sure, I can." And that's what he did, despite her protests. He probably looked like the world's strangest butler, carrying a silver-domed tray through the street of Fort Washington as Bella trailed behind pulling the wagon.

Mr. Grayson was seated at the head of the makeshift tables and he was the one who carved the turkey for the motley crew seated around him. What little leftovers remained after the feast was finished were squirreled away by Bella's friends. The empty dishes and silverware were the only things that went back in the wagon. Bella was thrilled by their enthusiasm.

"Mr. Grayson was the one out on the cliff," Bella said suddenly, breaking their companionable silence. "The one who said he cared."

Emmett nodded. That made sense, and explained the affection she had towards the old man in the tattered suit. "Why did you try it?"

_Scramble the jets, we are at Defcon Two. Repeat, Defcon Two._ "Why did _you_ try it?" she shot back.

"I'll tell if you will," Emmett offered.

Bella considered, and finally surrendered. "It was right after my parents died. I was really in a bad place. My dad, his death hit me the worse, as bad as that sounds. He always understood me and loved me anyway. I was so lonely. I thought- I thought I'd always be alone. That people would always reject me because of my ... issues. When Mr. Grayson found me on that cliff, everything changed. The homeless understand 'weird.' They don't judge."

"I was lonely, too," Emmett confessed. "But for me, it felt as if I had no purpose in life. I was just going through the motions and every day was the same dreary cycle. I finally couldn't stand it ay more. I didn't see it ever getting better, so I decided to end it on my own terms."

Bella took a deep breath and held out her hand. Emmett stared in shock for a moment and then engulfed it with his own. Her skin was surprisingly soft. All those chemicals she used to disinfect the world around her hadn't roughened her skin. If he'd had a heart, it would be beating frantically. _Bella was letting him touch her! _And more importantly, she had initiated it.

"Emmett, I need to tell you something."

"Anything, sweetheart."

"I'm afraid that you and Edward ... I'm afraid you want more than I can give." Bella's face was magenta.

"Bella, honey, you've got it all wrong. _This_ is what I want. Just being with you, spending time with you. Anything else is icing on the cake."

"Icing, huh?"

Emmett nodded. Slowly,, giving her time to reject it if it proved too much, he bent over the hand still clasped in his and kissed it. She stiffened for a second, but relaxed without pulling away.

Emmett was over the moon. He held her hand all the way back to the house. Sweet icing, indeed.


	5. Infatuation

Chapter 5

Infatuation

Six forty-five. Bella stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and gazed at the her reflection in awe. The dress fit like it was made for her, the sleeves and bodice as smooth as paint. Nothing she had ever worn had flattered her figure so. It made the most of her full bust and made her waist look tiny while hiding the hips and thighs that embarrassed her. (Which was why she never wore pants.)

She wished she had makeup. She wished she knew _how_ to apply makeup.

Around her neck she wore the blue stone necklace. It circled around her collarbone, contrasting with her pale skin. The earrings winked in the light when she turned her head and the bracelet weighted down her wrist. She was nervous about wearing them. What if they were lost or damaged? (She had cleaned them by dipping each piece in rubbing alcohol, praying that the plating wouldn't come off.) Knowing that they had been his sister's made them even more of a precious burden. What had happened to his sister, anyway?

She had swept her hair back in a bun, the closest thing to a fancy hairdo she could manage. She considered unpinning it because he would be able to see plainly how her ears stuck out, and the blue stones adorning them only emphasized the flaw.

She gave a final twirl in front of the mirror sighing in delight at the way her skirt fanned out. She was wearing a pair of sneakers below it; she'd never even owned a pair of heels.

She couldn't do this. The woman in the mirror was not her.

Edward arrived at five minutes to seven. The man was stunning in an Armani suit; when he wore a tux, the angels wept. She opened the door and he simply stared at her, not moving, not speaking. She was similarly poleaxed.

"Jesus Christ, Bella, you're gorgeous," he finally said, breaking the silence of the mutual admiration-fest. "I knew you'd look lovely in this dress but you surpassed every expectation. Turn around for me, please."

Bella pirouetted., the skirt belling out around her legs, the gems at her throat and ears flashing. "Incredible," Edward pronounced. "You'll put every other woman there to shame."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, Edward. I'm sorry, but I can't go."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I just can't do it. I know you're going to be mad at me, but I just _can't_."

He was silent for a long moment. Their eyes met and held. He seemed to be searching for something in her eyes, something he didn't find. A faintly puzzled expression came over his face. "Bella, can you please explain this to me? I want to understand."

Bella sat on the sofa. "All of the crowds, the noise... People looking at me funny when I refuse to shake their hand... It's too much pressure. All of those people who will be there, they knew my mother and father, and so they know about _me._ The crazy daughter. And they'll be oh-so-happy to see me again and they'll say witty, pretty things with a smile on their faces meant to disguise the undertone of malice. You don't even realize you've been insulted until you play back their words in your head later."

"Do you think I'd allow anyone to be cruel to you?"

Bella smiled sadly. "Thank you, Edward, for all that you did. You really tried to make this wonderful for me, and I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Bella, look at me," he commanded.

She did.

"You can do this," he said, staring deeply into her eyes with a strangely intent expression.

She shook her head. "No, Edward I can't."

"Bella, listen to me. _YOU CAN DO THIS."_

"These aren't the droids you're looking for,_" _Bella muttered. Edward recoiled in shock. Bella instantly felt ashamed for making light of his attempts to reassure her. She rose to her feet and started toward him but he was backing away from her, the strangest expression of bewilderment on his face.

"All right, Bella. I respect your decision. Good night." Edward gave her a little bow and strode out the door, shutting it behind him.

"Edward, wait!" Bella ran after him, throwing open the door. But Edward was already peeling down her driveway.

* * *

><p>Once again, Edward was out with Bella and once again, Emmett was pacing and prowling around the apartment, torturing himself with images of Bella and Edward together, images of her dazzled by his charm, images of her in love with Edward, images of her weeping from a broken heart.<p>

He looked around the apartment and wondered why he'd never noticed how cold and impersonal it was. It was elegantly decorated, sleek and modern with use of glass and metal and burnished wood, but it looked like a picture in a magazine, or a movie set, waiting to be brought to life by the characters.

They had no knick-knacks or photos, nothing that said anything about the people who lived here except that they had money. Even the art had been chosen because it matched the decor, not because it appealed to either of the residents.

Emmet had a few personal mementos in his bedroom, sentimental things that he had kept down through the years, but Edward's bedroom was just as bland and devoid of individuality as the rest of the apartment. Edward had exactly one personal possession he valued and kept with them through all of their travels, a small, plain wooden box. He refused to divulge its contents, but whatever it was, he had run into their burning house to save it during the great fire of 1666.

Emmett froze in his tracks when he heard the sound of Edward's car approaching. He glanced down at his watch to confirm what he already knew; Edward shouldn't be back yet. Something was wrong. He waited in the living room, anxious, impatient, feeling like one of those little yippy dogs that danced and barked their fool heads off waiting for their owners to finish unlocking the door.

Edward came through the door and went straight to the sofa, a blank look on his face. He didn't bother to remove his coat as he flopped down.

"Did Bella cancel your date?

It was a moment before Edward spoke. "She didn't want to go."

Emmett tried to refrain from grinning but wasn't completely successful. He rubbed beneath his nose as if he had an itch to hide it, which wouldn't have fooled Edward for an instant if he'd been less distracted since vampires never itched. "Did something happen?"

"It's what _didn't_ happen. Have you tried to read her mind?"

"No." He'd decided he wouldn't violate her privacy in that manner, though sometimes he ached to know what she was thinking.

Edward ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Well, I did. She's a blank. Either she hasn't a thought in her head or she's blocking me somehow. Both seem equally unlikely. Holy fuck, Emmett. No one has _ever_ blocked me, not in- Well, a very long existence. Nothing! Absolute I couldn't control her."

"Why did you try?" Emmett asked, a little miffed.

Edward gave him an irritated glare. "It was for her own good. I tried telling her that she wasn't freaked out by the prospect of being out in public amongst her parents' peers. It didn't work."

Emmett now understood why Edward looked so shell-shocked. No one, especially a mortal, should be so powerful. He crossed the room in a blur of motion, grabbing his keys and coat. "I'm going over there."

"No offense, mate, but if it didn't work for me, I highly doubt it will work for you."

"I'm not going over there to work some mind mojo on her, Edward. I'm going over because she's probably upset at how quickly you walked out on her."

"Aw, fuck!" Edward dropped his head into his hands. "I was so taken aback that I didn't even- Ah, dammit." He slammed his fist down on the coffee table and it shattered magnificently. Edward jumped to his feet babbling an apology in between curse words. Emmett was amused and a little smug. It was usually Emmett who broke things by not remembering to curb his strength.

* * *

><p>Bella was in tears. Emmett found her up in her garden, still dressed in the blue ballgown and sapphires, thick gardening gloves on her hands, working compost into the soil around her tomato plants.<p>

"Bella?" he spoke softly but she still jumped.

"Oh, Emmett, I think I hurt Edward's feelings and I feel terrible about it!" she wailed. She sat down on a bag of potting soil, her five thousand dollar dress pooling around her sneakers on the gravel floor, and sobbed. She pulled off the gloves and wiped at her sodden cheeks.

"Bella." He said her name to get her attention and when she looked at him, Emmett caught her eyes and locked on.

-_Shouldn't have said that, it wasn't a time for jokes-It was so mean of me to do that when he was trying so hard to be nice-_

He could hear her.

"Bella," he commanded. "Stop crying."

Like a spigot that had been shut off, she did. She blinked rapidly, and reached up to touch the wetness on her cheeks as if surprised to find it there.

He could lock onto her mind and command her just as easily as any other human. It made no sense. Edward was a hundred times more powerful than Emmett.

He sat down beside her on the pile of soil bags. "I'm sorry your date didn't work out. You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she said, ducking her head, her cheeks pinkening.

From downstairs they could hear her cell phone begin to ring. "Want me to-" Emmet started.

Bella shook her head. "I don't want to answer it. I feel really bad but I need to think about what I'm going to say to him."

"You didn't hurt Edward's feelings," Emmett told her.

"You saw him? What did he say?"

Oh, God. He hated playing go-between and in this situation, he had no idea what to say. He couldn't very well tell her, _"Edward was shocked he couldn't read your mind or command your actions." _And he sure as fuck didn't feel like defending Edward to her.

"Bella, I really think you should discuss this with him. All I'm going to say is that it was nothing you did."

"He went to all that trouble and I ruined the evening." Bella started to cry again, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Cautiously, Emmett took her hand, patting it in the only form of comfort he could deliver.

Bella allowed it, and to his surprise, she even leaned against his arm. Emmett remained absolutely still. Sobs began to shake her form and then her head was against his chest, her arms up around his neck. Slowly, he placed his own arms around her back. He was holding her in his arms, really holding her, a stage he hadn't imagined they'd reach for quite some time. Her soft, white throat was exposed to him, its vulnerable curve only inches away, the blue veins pulsing with life . Her mouth-watering scent burned his throat every time he inhaled. "Shh," he said softly. He rubbed her back and Bella snuggled closer. Emmett closed his eyes, trying to imprint this moment on his memory indelibly. Emmett spoke to her in soft murmurs, probably too low to be intelligible, telling her how sweet and lovely she was.

After a while, her sobs stilled and she sniffled quietly. Emmett continued to murmur to her until she sat up and drew away. "I got your t-shirt all wet," she said, scrubbing at her tearstained cheeks with the heels of her hands.

"Don't worry about it." As reluctant as Emmet was to let her go, he needed the space. His fangs had elongated from her mouth-watering scent and her soft, warm body pressing up against him was awakening other appetites. He tugged surreptitiously at the hem of his t-shirt to ensure his lap was covered.

"I hugged you!" Bella said with a proud smile. "I haven't hugged anyone since my parents died."

"You can have a hug whenever you want one," Emmett offered. "I'll even throw in some free hand-holding."

Bella chuckled. "You felt cold. Where's your coat?"

He was always at room temperature unless he intentionally warmed himself by doing something like soaking in a hot bath. "I left it in my car. I was in a hurry and forgot to put it on."

"You hurried over here for me," Bella said in soft wonder. "Because you thought I might be upset."

"Yeah."

"You're so sweet, Emmett. Thank you."

"Bella, if you'll give me the privilege of being the one to hold you when you cry, I'll be a happy man."

A soft crunch of gravel. They both looked up and saw Edward standing in the greenhouse door. Emmett hadn't heard his car approach, distracted by the delightful novelty of holding Bella in his arms, but he should have guessed Edward would come when Bella hadn't answered her phone. "Am I interrupting?" he asked, his expression strangely hesitant and vulnerable. Emmett had never seen him look this way and it set off some alarms in a distant part of his brain.

"Oh, Edward, I'm so sorry," Bella said, her voice rough from her tears.

"You don't have to be sorry." Edward came to kneel in front of her, his black, tux-clad knee digging into the gravel. "It was my fault. I pushed you too hard, Bella."

Edward kneeling, their faces were level. "I didn't mean to be glib when you were trying to encourage me. It was insulting and I apologize."

"Sweetheart, don't worry about it." Edward gave her one of his crooked smiles. "Besides, it was sort of funny. I didn't realize you were a _Star Wars_ geek. For a chick with no TV, you sure know your pop culture references."

Bella grinned at him, feeling a little better about the situation. "I've never seen _Star Wars_, but I once saw that line used in a book."

Edward gave her a look of exaggerated horror. "You've never seen _Star Wars?_ Good God."

Bella giggled and ducked her head. Emmett gritted his teeth. He was glad she was no longer upset, but _he_ wanted to be the one who made her laugh. He eyes the shovel leaning up against a nearby planter and entertained himself with a vision of bashing Edward over the head with it.

"Seriously, Edward," Bella said. "You're not angry? Tell me the truth."

"I solemnly swear it," Edward said.

"Friends?" And to Emmett's dismay she stuck out her hand.

Edward took it gently. "Friends."

* * *

><p>Emmett arrived home a few hours before dawn and went to the room that he and Edward referred to as "the office" though no one ever did any office work in there. It was the repository of their financial papers, accountant statements and tax returns. The Rolodex on the desk at which no one ever sat had the numbers of various business associates, the people who paid their bills for them, invested their money and kept the IRS happy. Emmett found the number for his lawyer's cell phone and dialed.<p>

It only rang twice before Jenks answered, his voice gravelly with sleep. "It's 3 A.M., on a weekend, Emmett. I'm guessing you must be in jail."

Emmett chuckled. "No, it's something much more interesting. I've got a project for you."

Jenks was a dayman, one of the humans who served vampires by protecting them at their most vulnerable time, and took care of the tasks interacting with the human world which needed done during the day, hence the name. Though they were called "daymen" around half of them were actually "daywomen". The term was just a holdover from earlier, less politically-correct, times.

Daymen weren't ordinary people. Something in their physiology set them apart from other humans. Their lives were longer, but not extraordinarily so, they tended to be hardier in their constitutions, and they smelled awful to vampires. It was theorized that the smell was a protection, a way to keep the vampires from seeing them as a convenient meal or forming a short-lived romantic attachment.

Their attachment to their vampires a simple employer-employee relationship. Vampires and their daymen had a deep emotional bond, platonic soul-mates.

When a dayman was discovered among the human population, they were invited to enter into service, guaranteed to be lavishly compensated and cared for until the day they died. They could never, however, become vampires themselves. Something in their blood, their physical makeup, made that impossible. The ones who attempted the change always died painfully.

If they accepted the invitation, they were entered into the VAMPbase, a registry of all vampires loyal to the Queen, and went through a selection process much like a combination of a job interview and a dating agency. Vampires searching for a dayman interviewed potential candidates. If they were going to "click", it happened almost instantaneously. If the connection was not made, both parties moved on to other candidates until they found their match. If they turned down the invitation, their memories were erased and they were sent back out into the human world.

Emmett himself had never had a dayman and neither had Edward. Edward preferred to hire whatever people were necessary to take care of his business and since this meant Emmett's affairs were taken care of as well, he'd never sought to have his own dayman.

Jenks was dayman to Esme Cullen, a sweet but rather scatter-brained woman who was practically helpless, needing his assistance for even the simplest of tasks. (She had once called Emmett for help when Jenks was busy with a client because she needed to put gas in her car and had no idea how to do it.) Jenks loved her dearly and she suited his meticulous, protective nature. He had been an attorney before he was discovered and he continued on in that capacity, now serving his vampire clients' legal needs. He was also an incredibly skilled forger and was able to create the identity documentation that was becoming increasingly necessary.

Emmett detailed Bella's ideas for her restaurant. When he finished, Jenks was silent for a moment. "I'm going to need you to repeat that, Emmett. Did you really just say a restaurant for the homeless?"

"I did. Bribe, extort and blackmail whoever you need to in order to get the necessary permits, do whatever you have to do. Hire as many people as you need to get it done, and done as soon as possible. I also need you to get a chef for the place, a really good one."

"Um, Emmett, as your financial adviser I think I need to tell you that you're probably going to lose money on this venture. A _lot_ of money."

"I can afford it," Emmett said. "And I'd imagine Bella is going to insist on repaying my capital outlays."

"You want press for this?"

"No. It's Bella's vision, not mine, and she's a very private person."

"It'd be a hell of a PR boost for the companies you own."

"I'll pass. Listen, if you can't find a suitable place, build one. Preferably downtown near the Clinton Street bridge."

"God, Emmet, it would have been much simpler if you were calling me from jail. This little 'project' of yours makes a trial look like a picnic."

"You need a challenge every now and then. Keeps you on your toes."

Jenks grumbled, but said he'd start work Monday morning. Emmett hung up, satisfied.

* * *

><p>Bella didn't usually swear, but when the delivery men showed up the next morning with a huge box, the words that popped out of her mouth were, "What the fuck is <em>this<em>?"

One of the men bore a vague resemblance to Keanu Reeves. He looked very bored. "Delivery, ma'am."

"Yes, I can see that, but what _is_ it and why is it here? I didn't order anything."

"You're Isabella M. Swan? At 221 Cliffside Drive?"

"Yes, but-"

Keanu interjected, "Lady, this box is really heavy and we really need to move on, so can we please bring it inside?"

Bella sighed in defeat. "Yeah, all right."

They set the box down in the living room and thrust an electronic signature pad at her. Bella recoiled. She could see ground-in grime on the buttons. She excused herself for a moment and fetched a pair of latex gloves. She studiously ignored their stares as she signed the pad.

After they left, she walked around the box and discovered a card envelope with her name handwritten on it. She slit the envelope and fished out the contents. The note was written on heavy, creamy paper with Edward's name at the top. She gave a soft snort. Only Edward would have his own embossed stationery.

_Bella, __Don't be mad__,_ it read. _I thought it would be fun to watch _Star Wars_ with you. To get the full effect, you really should watch it on the big screen, but I didn't think you'd wish to go to the theater again. When I come over tonight, I'll hook it up for you. Edward._

He'd bought her a TV and a DVD player. A _BIG_ TV, the sort of ostentatious thing that she despised. It didn't even fit in her small living room. Would he next get her a new house with more room for the TV?

He'd written "_when_ I come over", not asking her permission, just assuming she'd vacate any plans for him. Or maybe he thought she had nothing better to do.

She grabbed her cell phone off the counter and waited. As soon as it rang, she punched the green button and said, "Take it back."

"Take what where?" It was Emmett and he sounded very confused.

"I'm sorry, Emmett. I thought it would be Edward calling promptly after the arrival yet another one of his surprise deliveries."

"Oh, shit. What is it this time?"

"A television that's taller than I am. Oh, and a DVD player. He wants to watch _Star Wars."_

"Bella, he's... uh... used to girls who appreciate these sort of over-the-top extravagant gestures."

Bella felt like tearing out her hair in frustration. "You'd think he would have figured out by now that _I don't_. Is he home? Can you put him on the phone?"

Emmett told her to hold on and she heard knocking and them the low rumble of male conversation. "Bella!" Edward said, sounding annoyingly chipper. "Good morning."

"Edward, I haven't had my caffeine yet, so I'm going to try to make this as brief as possible. There's a huge box in my living room and I want it gone."

"Please, don't get upset-"

"I AM UPSET!" she shouted. "God, Edward, don't you understand? I don't like this stuff. I don't want a giant TV in my living room. I don't want a cell phone and I don't want your sister's jewelry."

"Who?" he asked and Bella's gut went cold. Her defenses went past Defcon One and into all out thermonuclear war. "_To worry, worry super-scurry/Call the troops out in a hurry_/_This is what we've waited for/This is it, boys, this is war."_

"Your sister," she repeated, her voice rigid and icy. "Remember, the one who used to own the jewelery set?"

He was silent. In her mind, air raid sirens were blaring and the missile silos were confirming their launch codes.

"You never _had_ a sister, did you?"

"I did, actually" he said. "She died long, long ago. Bella-"

"The jewelery didn't belong to her, did it?"

He sighed. "No, it didn't."

Bella took a deep breath. Her hands were cold and trembling. "I want you to come get this stuff. I want it out of here. Now."

"Please, Bella-"

"You _lied_ to me," she accused.

"I knew you wouldn't accept them if you thought I'd bought them just for you. But, Bella, I wanted you to have them. I told you, I like giving gifts. I liked seeing you in silk and gems. You're not above a little fib now and then, yourself. Remember, you said you had a cell phone when you didn't."

Maybe it made her a hypocrite but Bella didn't see her lie about the phone in the same light. "So, that excuses lying to me to trick me into accepting your gift?"

"I'm sorry." He sounded more exasperated than apologetic.

"No, you're not. You're just sorry I called you on it." She hung up the phone and turned the power off. She slid the phone into the envelope taped to the side of the box and went into her bedroom. The blue dress was hanging from her closet door. She stroked the soft fabric and tears swam in her eyes. She yanked down the dress and tossed it on her bed. She'd put the box in which it had been delivered into her recycling bin. She pulled it out now and stuffed the dress inside, tossing the box containing the jewels on top of it.

She gazed at them just once more before putting on the lid and wished for a moment that she could be the girl who wore that dress and went to the opera wearing a small fortune in jewels and could get excited about a man buying things for her, his high-handedness in deciding things for her. But she wasn't that girl, and no matter how hard Edward tried, he couldn't make her become that girl.

That was the problem, wasn't it? Edward wanted to change her. Maybe those changes would be for the better in some respects, but it spoke to her deepest insecurities, that no one could ever love her just the way she was. Everyone had to try to re-shape her into something different.

Everyone but Emmett.

Emmett had his own issues. Suicidal, possibly addicted to drugs and she was pretty sure he was just about as insecure as she was.

Which probably made him the perfect match for her, when you came right down to it.

* * *

><p>"Pissed her off, did you?" Emmett said with a small smirk when Edward called, "Bella? Bella?" into a dead connection.<p>

"This isn't funny, goddamit!" Edward roared. He threw the phone and it burst into fragments against the wall.

"Edward, what the fuck!" Emmett stared at him "I've never seen you like this."

"I've never felt like this," Edward said grimly. "I don't know what's happening to me." He sat down and buried his face in his hands. "This is crazy. I can't believe I'm so worked up over a girl I've known for four days. I have- I have _feelings_ for her, Emmett."

"I know." Emmett sat down beside him.

"I wish I could ask you for advice," Edward said with a humorless smile.

"I'll tell you this: it's not about what you want for Bella. It's about what_ Bella _wants."

Edward leaned forward eagerly. "What's that?"

"That's the point. You never bothered to find out. You treated her just like you've treated all of your flings, expecting the same game to work on her. But she's not like that. I tried to tell you that from the start."

"I _know_ she's different. That's why she intrigues me so."

Emmett stood.

"Where are you going?"

"To get the phone in the living room. I've got to call a delivery company and get them over to Bella's house to collect all that shit you sent her." He looked back at Edward, sitting dejected on the edge of his bed and felt a flash of pity for him. It had to be bewildering to have emotions for the first time in... however old he was, and worse, to have no idea how to express them properly.

* * *

><p>That evening, it was Emmett who headed over to visit Bella, Edward disappearing for parts unknown. He tapped on Bella's back door and listed to the sound of her footsteps as she approached. Her face was intentionally passive until she discovered who stood outside and then she was all smiles. "Emmett! Hi, come in."<p>

He followed her into the kitchen where a skillet steamed on the stove. "I made dinner. Hope you're hungry."

Emmett inwardly cringed. "Sure. What are you making?"

"Stir-fry. Do you like tofu?"

"I've never had it," he said honestly. He seated himself at the kitchen table.

"I hope you'll like it." Bella went on, happily chatting about the properties of tofu while Emmett just watched her. She was wearing a loose blue gingham dress that covered her from collarbone to shin, her hair simply caught back at the nape of her neck with a rubber band and ratty old sneakers. Emmett thought that he'd never seen a more beautiful, sexy creature in all of his days.

She put a plate before him, overflowing with fried vegetables and rice. The little white chunks must be the tofu. She placed a pair of lacquered chopsticks on his napkin. "Um, I've never used those before," Emmett said.

"Hey, no time like the present to try," Bella said cheerfully. "It's no big deal if you drop stuff. It's just me here."

That wasn't terribly comforting since she was the person he most wanted to impress.

"Asian food is designed to be eaten with chopsticks. Using anything else is like eating spaghetti with a spoon." She seated herself and picked up her own pair of chopsticks. "Hold them like this."

Emmet tried to get his big, clumsy fingers to cooperate.

"Think of them as extensions of your fingers. The bottom one doesn't move, it just rests in the crook of your thumb. Use the top one like your index finger." She waggled her chopsticks in demonstration.

Emmett finally got them positioned as she'd instructed and tried to pick up a carrot slice. The sticks skittered apart. He tried again and dropped the top stick. He looked up at Bella, worried she was mocking him, but she just gave him an encouraging smile. He chastised himself. How could he think that she would make fun of him? Bella didn't have a mean bone in her body.

He redoubled his efforts and somehow managed to transfer a piece of broccoli from the plate into his mouth.

Bella was plucking morsels off her own plate, as light as a bird. "You did it! See, it's easy once you get the hang of it."

Emmet chewed, trying valiantly to appear as though he was enjoying it. He swallowed heavily, trying to force the chunk of food down his resisting throat. He went for a chunk of the tofu, but it was slippery and annoyingly difficult to pinch between the sticks. _Ah! Almost got it! There!_

The bit of tofu flicked between his sticks, sailed across the table and hit Bella in the cheek.

Emmet was horror struck.

Bella giggled. "So, it's war, is it?" she said and flicked a carrot disc at him. Emmett caught it out of the air and launched it back at her.

"That's cheating!" Bella cried. "You can only launch missiles with your chopsticks!"

"I don't remember agreeing to that," Emmett said, flicking a pea at her.

"All civilized nations abide by the rules of war! It's on page three of the Geneva Convention."

"I'm a rogue nation. I take no prisoners." He kept up a steady bombardment of vegetables, which Bella attempted to dodge. She retaliated with broccoli, but it only made it to the middle of the table before falling with a plop.

"Four out of ten," Emmett judged. "Nice execution but poor distance."

It turned out that little of the food was actually eaten. As uptight as she was about messes, Bella seemed to enjoy their little food fight, giggling every time he lobbed a bit of food in her direction. It was another memory he wanted to capture and keep forever, Bella's eyes sparkling with laughter.

Clean up after the meal took longer than usual, but they finally finished. Emmett waited until she was occupied with putting away the cleaning supplies before slipping up to the greenhouse. He opened the compost bin and set about ridding himself of the few bites of food he'd had to consume.

He heard Bella come up the stairs and he quickly shut the lid.

"What were you doing with your head in the compost bin?" Bella asked.

"Uh... er... smelling it?"

Bella chuckled. "No one believes me when I tell them it doesn't smell bad. Anyway, I'm not gardening tonight. I was planning to go for a walk. Would you like to join me?"

They went down the fire escape toward the cliffs, though to Emmett's relief, they headed away from the area where she'd found him, waiting for dawn. Walking along cliffs at night would sound like a recklessly unsafe pastime but Bella knew these cliffs like the back of her hand and never strayed too close to the edge. About a mile down shore, there was a staircase set into the cliffs which led down to a beach below. At the bottom, Bella shyly held her hand out to Emmett, who eagerly clasped it in his own. Hand-in-hand, they strolled down the beach.

It was a beautiful night, cool but not cold, the moon bright over the waves. They walked slowly in companionable silence.

Emmett had always considered himself brave. He was the first to rush in to rescue a friend or stranger, never back down in a fight and was always willing to try new things. But asking Bella the question that burned in his mind scared him. If he'd had a heart, it would have been pounding.

He stopped walking and pulled Bella gently by her hand closer to him. She looked up at him, questions in her eyes. He finally worked up the courage to say it. "Bella, may I kiss you?"

Bella hesitated.

"Just like this," he promised, touching the back of two fingers to her hand. "Just a touch."

After a moment, Bella nodded and he leaned in slowly, letting her get used to his proximity. Her breath hitched and her heart raced.

Closer.

_Closer._

Bella closed her eyes.

His lips touched hers, a soft feather brush of a kiss. A jolt of electricity zipped through Bella's stomach.

Her first kiss. On a moonlit beach with a handsome man. She couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment.

He brushed his cool, firm lips over her cheek, her forehead, her eyelids. "You're trembling," he said softly. He wrapped her in his arms and held her against his chest, kissing the top of her head.

"I didn't freak you out, did I?" he asked. He didn't want to make Edward's mistakes, pushing her into something she didn't want.

"No," she replied quickly. "It was- it was... nice."

"_Nice_?" he teased.

Bella's face was beet red and her heart was racing but she tried for nonchalant. "I guess you'll just have to do better next time."

_Next time_. Emmett felt a wide, stupid, gleeful grin split his face.

Icing.


	6. Intoxication

Author's note: Apologies about the multiple uploads of this chapter. I had a file mix-up in which the draft version was posted instead of the completed one.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

Intoxication

Bella was nervous. Very nervous.

A week had passed since her first kiss down on the beach, a week of many firsts. Over the last seven days, Emmett had introduced her to the joys of making out, though he was always careful not to go to far, not to let his hands stray into areas which might alarm her. She was amazed at her own progress. When she was in his arms, she didn't think about germs. Before she'd met him, the thought of kissing and the sheer messiness of physical intimacy had repelled her. She'd figured she must have been born without the same drives as others or her "issues" had overwhelmed and suppressed them. Now they had appeared with a vengeance.

She loved kissing Emmett. She loved being held in his strong arms where she felt safe and cherished. She loved the sweet taste of his lips and tongue when it brushed up against hers and the delicious ache it created. For the first time in her life, in this one area, she felt normal. Emmett was gentle, he was kind and he put absolutely no pressure on her to further their intimacy. In fact, she initiated most of their interactions. Bella was pretty sure she was falling in love with him. She only hoped he returned her feelings.

If only her mother were here. Bella longed to be able to discuss this with another woman, a mother, a friend. The only experience Bella had with romance was through her books. She'd read about sex, of course, but she knew well that fiction didn't always accurately describe real life. How did one go about telling a man that he could make love to her? She'd thought up a few lines, and even practiced them in the mirror but every one of them either seemed cliched or made her turn beet red.

There were some serious issues that needed discussed before they could commit to a relationship, but again, she was unsure how to broach the subjects. Did he want children? Would he disappointed to learn she couldn't have any? Some people were uncomfortable discussing "female issues" and telling him why would entail discussing uterine fibroids and cysts and the hysterectomy she'd undergone at age 15. Even had she been able to, she wasn't sure that she'd be suited to be a mother. Her "issues" required strict adherence to patterns and an ability to control her environment. Children were chaos and messes.

Was he religious? Was it important to him? They'd never discussed the topic. It was one that Bella usually tried to avoid because sometimes when she told people that she didn't believe in God they treated her differently as if lacking religious faith made her inherently immoral and untrustworthy.

Was he a drug user? He seemed much healthier than he had when she'd first met him and he never seemed to be under the influence, but she couldn't be certain. If he had an addiction problem, he was hiding it well but if he had a problem, she wanted to help him but not enable him.

Did he really want a relationship, a long-term, committed relationship? If he didn't, it was best to end it now, but if he did, she wanted to know how he envisioned it working. Would he want to marry her or live together? Bella wasn't particularly attached to the idea of getting married but she wouldn't object. Would he feel comfortable moving into her little house or would they get a new place together? How would he feel about moving out of the apartment he shared with Edward?

She sighed. Edward. That was problematic topic.

After Emmett had kissed her on the beach, they'd started back toward the house.

They reached the bottom of the cliff staircase and Bella froze, staring at the figure at the top. It was Edward and he was wobbling as he attempted to navigate down the steps. "Halloo," he called, waving to them merrily. On the last three, he tripped, sprawling into the sand. "Oops," he snickered.

"Edward, you're drunk!" Bella exclaimed.

"Why, yes. Yes, I am," he replied with great dignity, hauling himself upright with effort. "Thank you for noticing."

"What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you, Bella," Edward said, that strangely naked, desperate expression crossing his face. "I had to make you understand how sorry I am."

"You are in very sorry shape, that's for sure," Bella muttered. She had seen too many alcoholics in shelters and Edward's condition both alarmed and repelled her.

"Please," Edward fell to his knees as he had done in the greenhouse. He caught her hand. "Bella, please..."

She pulled it away. "Edward, come back and talk with me when you're sober."

"I'm begging you, Bella. I won't be able to sleep knowing you're angry at me."

"No, Edward," she said firmly and went up the stairs, leaving him kneeling on the sand.

He'd shown up the next evening, looking contrite and holding a massive bouquet of roses. Bella let him in and he set the flowers on her dining room table when she made no move to accept them. "I'm sorry. I could say it a hundred times and I know it wouldn't make any difference, but I need you to know that I never wanted to hurt you."

She nodded. "I know that, Edward."

"Bella, I... I care about you."

"You don't _know_ me.''

"I do know you," he objected. "I know that you're kind and warm-hearted, and-"

"No, you don't know me, Edward. If you knew me, you would have understood why I would never want a sapphire necklace or a big-screen television."

"I thought I could..." he trailed off.

"You thought you could _make_ me like those things?"

"Not _make you. _I thought if I introduced you to some of the things you'd never had, you'd find out that you liked them."

"Which perfectly illustrates my point that you don't know me. I'm not Country Mouse in the big city. My parents were rich, Edward. If I were interested in jewels, I could have kept my mother's. If I'd wanted a big TV I could have kept the one my father had in his rec room. I haven't been deprived, Edward. I made an active choice. And you're telling me that my choices are wrong."

"Goddammit, I just wanted to buy you some gifts," he said, throwing up his hands. "I didn't know that I was offending you with a subliminal message."

"I know." She placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently. "That's why I'm not mad any more. You really did just want to do something nice for me. But I'm not that kind of girl. I'm not the kind of girl you need, Edward."

"Give me another chance," he said quickly. "Bella, please, come out with me tonight. I can- we can. I know. I'll take you to a museum. You'd like that, right? I know the curator at the art museum. He'll let us in after hours so you don't have to deal with the crowds." Edward was already pulling out his cell phone. Bella stopped him gently by closing his hand around the phone.

"No, Edward. Thank you for the offer, but I don't think it's a good idea. We wouldn't work out. I'm not what you want."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "I suspect I may be better acquainted with what I want."

"All right, granted. I may be what you want, but I'm not what you _need._ Edward, I like you, I really do, but friends is all we should ever be. You're a good person, but our personalities don't suit."

"You've chosen Emmett, haven't you?"

" I haven't _chosen_ anyone, Edward."

"I saw you last night," he said.

Bella felt a cold tingle in her stomach. "You- you _watched_ us?"

Edward stood. "That's why I said you've chosen him. You had difficulty even touching my sleeve only a few days ago and last night you let him_ kiss_ you."

She had no reply to that.

Edward swooped down in a formal bow, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back. "Goodbye, fair Isabella. I wish you happiness.."

"I don't want to lose you as a friend, Edward."

He smiled faintly. "You haven't lost me. If you ever need me, I'll be there, but Bella, I'm not going to hang around here and watch you and Emmett. I can't do that."

And then he had left. Bella hadn't seen him since.

Emmett said he hadn't seen much of Edward either, and the way he said it let her know that he was concerned. She suspected Edward was drinking heavily, not coming home most nights. That self-destructive streak was another thing that told her that she had made the right choice in turning him down. Edward simply wasn't emotionally prepared for a relationship.

She heard Emmett's car in the drive and it made her smile. He came over every evening now, helping her with her friends' meals and just spending time together. Yesterday evening, they'd cuddled on the sofa and read. Bella pictured them being old and gray and doing the same thing.

She checked her hair one last time and went into the living room to wait for him, her heart pounding with nervous excitement. She was going to do it. She was going to take the plunge and offer to take their relationship to the next level. She figured if you counted every evening as a "date" (and she did) this was their twelfth. At least he wan't going to think she was easy, she chuckled.

Emmett knocked and she called for him to come in. He did, his expression alight with excitement. "Bella, honey, I have something to show you that I think you're really going to love."

"What is it?" She looked at him expectantly. He'd brought her a few little presents over the last week, small things that were considerate and showed that he was attuned to her: a spatula on Tuesday because he'd noticed that hers was worn out, a handful of wildflowers on Thursday that he'd stopped alongside the road to pick, a teapot that whistled when the water boiled because he was strangely, amusingly offended that hers lacked the capability, and yesterday, a little catnip-stuffed mouse for Beautiful. She'd gotten a little teary over the cat toy. It was just so sweet of him to think of her cat.

"It's not here. You have to come with me." Emmett pulled her coat from the closet and waved it at her. "Come on, sweetie."

She laughed at his obvious excitement and kissed him before sliding her arms into the coat he held. "Can you give me a hint?" she asked.

"It's bigger than a breadbox," he said. Bella followed him out the door and climbed into the car on the passenger side. She fastened her seatbelt and admonished him to do the same. She was pretty sure he forgot most of the time when he wasn't in the car with her because she always had to remind him. Him and Edward both. Did they think they were immortal?

The drive was short and they took much the same route that they did when delivering her friends' meals. Emmett refused to give her any more clues even when she whined and cajoled and pretended to pout. He made a left turn at the bridge and ordered her to shut her eyes. Bella covered them with her palms. He stopped the car and got out jogging around to her side. A rush of cool air as he opened her door. "Do you have your eyes closed?"

"Yes." She felt him unbuckle her seat belt and guide her to her feet. He kept his hands on her shoulder steering her forward. Eight steps. He stopped. "Open your eyes," he whispered.

She did. There was a building in front of her, apparently a restaurant from what she could see through the windows. "Bella's" was written in script on the lighted sign.

"Emmett, what is this?" she asked slowly.

"Your dream," he said. He smiled at her dumbstruck expression. "Really. It's the restaurant you told me that you dreamed of opening for your friends. Come on, I'll show you." Bella followed after him, shock making everything feel distant and unreal.

The dining room was large and elegantly furnished. Dark wood chairs stood at linen-covered tables set with gleaming porcelain and elegant stemware. The carpet was a rich burgundy with a small gold pattern that was repeated on the cream-colored walls. Large potted plants stood in corners. Emmett took her back to the kitchen, brilliant with stainless steel. The walls were covered with shiny, gleaming white tiles and Emmett showed her how everything had been built seamlessly to prevent any bacteria from lodging in the cracks. They went down a hallway which led to a covered walkway, connecting to a small building a bit like a hotel. There were ten rooms, each with its own washer and drier and stainless steel shower stall. The person using the room would be issued a keycard so that their possessions would be safe while they dined. An attendant would clean each room after use.

The place was fully staffed, Emmett said, so Bella could come and cook when she wanted to but didn't have to feel pressured if it made her uncomfortable. All of the staff had been drilled on the necessities of rigorous cleanliness and Emmett had assured each of them that he would personally kick their ass if he heard anything about them being rude or inhospitable to their homeless clientele.

"So, what do you think?" Emmett asked, eagerly.

Bella burst into tears.

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed. A sense of dread began to cut through his excitement and he realized that she might see this as being like Edward's over-the-top gestures.

"It's beautiful!" she cried. "Oh, God, Emmett, I can't-" she sobbed and he led her to a chair, crouching down beside her. It only took a few moments for her to regain her composure and she turned to him with a smile so bright it could burn out the sun. "I can't believe it! You really did this? Really?"

"Really, really," he said gravely.

She let out a shriek of glee and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Emmett, I don't know how to thank you! I can't believe it! It's like you saw the vision in my head!"

"I love you, Bella," he said softly. "I want to make all your dreams come true."

"Oh Emmett. I love you, too," she said, and he had never seen her so beautiful as she was at that moment.

* * *

><p>It was late before they got back to Bella's house. She had met with the chef and discussed some of the questions she had, concerns about dietary restrictions such as low-sodium foods and diabetic deserts. The chef assured her that she had planned for these sorts of issues and had options which would suit just about any diner on the menu. She asked Bella to write down some of the recipes which her friends had enjoyed and Bella promised to do so. On the drive home, Bella was bubbling over with excitement, throwing out different ideas and plans, things she could do now that her dream was a reality.<p>

When they took off their coats in the living room, Bella suddenly turned shy, so Emmett knew she had something on her mind. "What is it?" he asked softly, catching her chin when she blushed and ducked her head, lifting up her face so he could gaze into her beautiful brown eyes.

"I, um," she said.

"Yes?"

He could hear her heart hammering and her face was getting redder by the moment.

"I... ," she rushed out.

"Stay the night?" Emmett repeated. "Bella, do you mean...?"

She nodded, her face magenta. "I- I had already made up my mind to ask you before you came over tonight. Do you... do you want to?"

"Yes, Bella, I want to, but I want to make sure that _you_ want to. I want to make sure you're not feeling pushed into the decision."

She shook her head. "You haven't pressured me at all, Emmett. I- I want to." Shyness overtook her again and she looked down at the toes of her shoes.

"Oh, sweetheart. Come here." Emmett enveloped her in his arms and just held her for a moment. The tension gradually ebbed from her body. She took a deep breath and tilted her face up toward his. She couldn't reach to kiss him. He had to lean down to meet her. Their lips met softly, sweetly. Bella clasped his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. His tongue brushed her lip and she opened her mouth. Emmett loved the way she kissed, her tongue making gentle little forays like she was sipping from a cup.

She whispered to him the line that had been circulating in her head every time he touched her. "_Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners. Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me."_

He replied, "_Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes."_ Bella took his hand and pulled him into her bedroom.

Emmett scooped up Beautiful, who was enjoying a nap on Bella's pillow, and deposited him into the hall. Beautiful looked indignant at this abrupt eviction and marched off down the hall, his tail flicking in what was apparently a rude gesture in Cat-ese.

Emmett sat on the bed and drew Bella to him, standing between his legs. "Sweetheart, listen to me. If you're not ready..." he gazed deep into her eyes.

"I am," she said and everything in her mind confirmed it. He felt a twinge of guilt for using his power now, but he had to know for sure. Her nature was to seek to please others, to give even if it wasn't her preference and he didn't want to take advantage of that.

She was nervous, shy and a little embarrassed that she didn't know what to do. She reached slowly to the front of her dress and unbuttoned the top button. Slowly, the second. Then the third. Her pink bra appeared and Emmett gave a little moan at the sight. It encouraged her,so she unbuttoned the last two and slipped the dress from her shoulders. It hung at her waist as she stood before him, trembling slightly.

Emmett gently traced the shape of her breasts with his hands, the light stroke of his cool fingertips raising goosebumps in their wake. He followed the bra's outline up to her shoulders and slipped his fingers under the straps, tugging them down gently. He moaned again as her breasts spilled free. "Bella, you're so beautiful. So perfect." Gently, he slid his hands around her sides, his thumbs brushing her nipples, making them harden into stiff peaks. He drew her closer and took one between her lips and it was Bella's turn to moan. Her hands rested on his shoulders and slid down, down his sides to the hem of his shirt. She tugged it upwards, though he was loath to leave her nipple long enough to slip it over his head.

"Does it feel as good to you if I do that?" Bella asked.

Emmett gave the nipple a little goodbye kiss, mentally promising to return shortly. "Try it and see," Emmett replied. He laid back on the bed, his hairless chest gleaming golden in the light from Bella's lamp. Bella admired the view for a moment and then climbed up beside him. She studied him, working out her approach and lowered her head. His skin was cool, as always and his nipple peaked as soon as her lips touched it. She tried to do what he had done to her, drawing it into her mouth and giving a little lick. He groaned and, encouraged, she tried the other which he seemed to like even more if his restless movements beneath her were any indication. She looked over and saw his hands gripping the blanket.

She sat up and pulled her dress over her head, tossing it to the floor. Emmett feasted his eyes on her. Bella blushed again, secretly glad she had worn her nicest underwear set. "Bella, you are a goddess," Emmett swore, picking her up and depositing her up in the center of the bed, her head on the pillow. Even in this time, he was a considerate man, careful to sweep aside her hair so he wouldn't lay her on it and cause it to pull. She reached for the button of his jeans and faltered, shyness making her retreat. Emmett simply kissed her and unbuttoned them himself, shoving them off his hips and then working his legs to try to remove them entirely. But it didn't work. He fought and swore because he forgotten to remove his shoes and now his pants were tangled around his legs.

Was this the wrong time to giggle? Bella couldn't help herself as he struggled to free his feet and then remove shoes and pants in the proper order.

"And here I thought I was coming across as all suave," Emmett said, a rueful grin tugging at his lips.

"Any more suave and I might faint," Bella replied. She got her first good look at his body and stopped breathing for a moment. The guy was huge _all over_. She gulped. This was going to hurt. It hurt having her doctor's finger in there, let alone that massive thing.

He was intensely sensitive to changes in her mood, her expressions, her eyes. He didn't miss the fear. "Bella, I won't hurt you, I promise." He crawled sinuously up the bed, his body over hers, held aloft by his knees and elbows. He was so massive above her. Bella felt small and delicate, like one of the heroines in a romance novel. But this was shockingly _real_, not fiction. Her breath was coming a little faster.

Emmett tugged at her underwear until they slid off her hips and then sat up to pull them all the way off her legs. He kissed her ankle, made her giggle and lose some of her tension by pretending to take a large bite and then kissed and licked his way up to her hip. Her breath caught.. Would he- She didn't think she was prepared for that yet. Seeming to have read he mind, he kissed across her stomach back up to her breasts.

His hand found her, brushed her soft, hairless folds. It delved down and Bella nearly jumped off the bed from the shock of how incredibly _good_ it felt. A surprisingly loud groan tore from her mouth until she clamped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed at being so noisy. "No," Emmett said softly. "I want to hear you, please." He tugged her hand away from her lips. "Don't be bashful. I think of it as a compliment. Now. Where were we?"

He restarted his ministrations and Bella couldn't stop the noises she made. She could barely hear them past the pleasure-fog in her brain. She forgot to be embarrassed, forgot everything but the sensations of what he was doing to her. Her body was an instrument upon which he was playing a symphonic masterpiece. Like a spring, she coiled tighter, and tighter until suddenly she burst in a wave of pulsing pleasure.

Emmett was kissing her. "Did you like that, sweet Bella?"

"Uh huh." Her brain must have undergone a reboot because she didn't quite have the power of speech, nor could she find the words to describe what she felt.

"I love you," Emmett said.

Bella couldn't speak. All she could do was clasp him close and kiss him, hoping he could feel the love radiating from every pore of her being. When her head began to clear a little, she decided to return the favor and reached down his body. He assisted by moving closer. He groaned, loudly, when her soft, warm hand clasped around him. She stroked experimentally and he was delighted to encourage her. A few moments later, a shudder wracked through his form and he cried out which confused Bella because it seemed like he'd-

He positioned his body over hers. Bella blinked, remembering that they needed- She reached under the pillow where she had stashed a condom earlier and passed it to him silently. He took it, paced a kiss on her nose and sat up to roll it down over his length. He was back in moments. _This is it,_ she thought, that cold, electric feeling tingling in her guts, nervousness, excitement and anticipation rolled into one.

Emmett knew, despite myriad romance novels to the contrary, that virgins rarely orgasmed their first time. He wasn't a small man and he knew it wouldn't be easy on her. But she didn't have to go through that. He could give her a beautiful memory regardless of what happened in reality. Bella would wake up tomorrow and think the romance novels were right.

"Bella, look at me," he said, and her eyes locked with his. "You're not going to feel any pain." Slowly, he nudged into her, pushing forward in tiny increments, letting her body get used to his invasion. The delicious smell of her blood mixed with the scent of her excitement rose in the air and he had to stop breathing in order to avoid what Edward had always called a "fangrection". He wanted her blood. He wanted it so badly. The voice of temptation urged him to go ahead and bite, take a little taste, she'd never know. But he couldn't do it. He was already uncomfortably close to violating her trust (even though, as Edward had justified his own actions, Emmett was doing it for her own good.)

Vampire physiology differed from humans in one important respect: vampires didn't ejaculate and because of it, male vampires were not tied to a single orgasm per session like human males. Like females, they could orgasm multiple times, and their erections remained until they felt sated which, for a vampire, could be hours. Emmett had achieved his first of the evening when Bella was touching him and now, feeling the clamp of her tight muscles around him, he was rapidly approaching a second. He whispered words of love to her, though she wouldn't remember them. A few more nudges and he was fully seated. Pleasure tore through him, leaving him trembling in its wake. God, she felt so good. He never wanted to leave. His urge to thrust was almost unbearable, but Bella would already be sore tomorrow and he feared that any vigorous motions on his part might tear her. He implanted the memory he'd created, pulled out, and gently tucked Bella under the covers. He stood to go flush the empty condom and noticed the blood on the top blanket. He pulled it off the bed and took it to the laundry room.

When he returned, Bella's mind had finished digesting the memory and she was smiling at him, the sweet, sleepy smile of a satisfied woman. She held out her hand in invitation and Emmett happily accepted, crawling back into bed with her.

"Ooh, you feel cold," Bella said, wrapping her warm body around him. She pressed a kiss to his chest. "Can you stay all night?"

"I have to leave very early," Emmett said regretfully. He couldn't stay trapped in her bedroom all day, hiding from the sun. She was already starting to drift off. It was a side effect of memory insertion but she would think it was because he had worn her out.

"Love you," she mumbled.

"Love you, too," he replied. He lay there with her, in the warm dark, listening to her heart beat and soaking in her scent. It was unavoidable. He would have to tell her the truth about himself, and tell her soon. He'd been weak. He should have told her before he made love with her, but the fear and cowardice hidden deep within him pleaded with him to allow himself this one memory in case she rejected him when she knew the truth.

* * *

><p>Edward was playing the piano when Emmett exited the elevator shortly before dawn. He'd left a soft, warm, sleepy Bella and driven through the cold pre-dawn city, expecting the apartment to be empty this morning as it had been for so many of the previous week.<p>

Edward didn't say anything when he came in, continuing to play. Emmett recognized the piece, _Liebesträume_ number 3 by Liszt.

Emmett asked if he was all right.

Edward gave a humorless bark of laughter. "I think it's pretty obvious that I am not."

"Edward, I'm worried about you." Emmett went to lay a hand on Edward's shoulder. He heard Edward inhale and instantly realized his mistake but Edward had him up against the wall, his forearm in Emmett's throat before Emmett could react. "You rutting son of a bitch," Edward hissed. "You fucked her? You fucked _Bella_?"

"It wasn't like that," Emmett forced out around the pressure on his vocal cords.

"You hurt her," Edward snarled. "I can smell the blood."

"Not any more than could be helped," Emmett said. "I love her, Edward, and she loves me."

Edward released him with a vicious snarl, murder in his eyes. Emmett saw his fist draw back for a punch, but it veered aside at the last instant, punching through the sheetrock beside his head. Edward released him, pausing only to deliver a kick that sent the piano crashing on its side before leaving the apartment.

* * *

><p>Edward was blitzed out of his fucking mind, thank-you-very-much.<p>

He'd spent the last week in O Negative, a vampire bar located in Fort Washington's red-light district, coincidentally not far from the bridge where Bella delivered her meals-on-wagon-wheels.

From the outside, the bar appeared to be a normal, human establishment. Those who wandered in for a beer would find nothing out of the ordinary at the bar. But members, who could show the bouncer in the back the medallion issued by the club, could pass through the doors into a vampire's bacchanalia.

A few years ago, a vampire scientist had created a new blood preservative, allowing blood to be bottled for the first time for vampire consumption. The anti-coagulants added to blood bags in the human world made the blood unpalatable and indigestible; their bodies rejected it just like human food. The vampire version was based on honey and was simple to make. It made the blood thicker than normal and added a bit of sweetness, but it opened up a whole new realm of possibilities.

Vampires could not ingest drugs and alcohol directly, however, if they drank from a human who had taken them, the vampire could enjoy the intoxicating effects. A whole range of bottled blood had entered the underground market, harvested from willing/paid human volunteers. Intoxicant laced blood was the most popular, but there were also small markets for the blood of people with certain diseases. Diabetes and leukemia apparently added an unusual tang which some vampires loved. Edward wasn't interested in those.

Here in O Negative, live volunteers circulated in the back rooms waiting to be chosen by a vampire and taken into the hotel rooms above, craving the pleasure which came from a vampire's bite and perhaps pleasures of the carnal sort. Edward hadn't left in a week, trying to drive Bella from his mind with blood and flesh.

He was in pain and rather resentful about it. He couldn't stand to see Bella any more, lurking in the shadows outside her home as he had done the week prior. Emmett was there constantly, the two of them touching, kissing, heading off to bed. Their happiness was like a burning dagger buried in his chest.

Sappho's poem of jealousy kept repeating itself in his head.

_That man is peer of the gods, who_

_face to face sits listening_

_to your sweet speech and lovely_

_laughter._

_It is this that rouses a tumult_

_in my breast. At mere sight of you_

_my voice falters, my tongue_

_is broken._

_Straightway, a delicate fire runs in_

_my limbs; my eyes_

_are blinded and my ears_

_thunder._

_Sweat pours out: a trembling hunts_

_me down. I grow_

_paler than grass and lack little_

_of dying._

When Emmett had come home smelling like sex, blood and Bella, Edward knew that he'd lost her forever. For a woman like Bella, sex was a commitment, a declaration that her heart was bound to the one to whom she gave herself. He'd looked at the man who had been his friend for half a millennium and hated him.

Now, all that was left was the agony.

The human he'd just fed from and fucked into oblivion lay limply on the sheets. He was a heroin addict who used the money he was paid for donating to pay for his habit. He would probably die here, Edward thought dispassionately. They paid him, tacitly encouraged him to continue his habit so that he could be drained by vampires who had no health consequences from getting high off his blood. Eventually, he would overdose or his body would simply give out from the abuse, and no one would care. He was easily replaced.

Edward stood and dressed. He tossed a wad of cash on the bed and left the room, weaving down the red-wallpapered hallway to the lounge. It was decorated as the rest of the place was, like a high-class bordello in red velvet and golds. Bodies writhed on plush furniture.

He stopped when he saw her across the room, shock hitting him like a bucket of ice water. "Bella?" Had she come to find him? Elation wiped away his grief. He crossed the room to her side in a split second. "Bella!"

She turned to face him and the joy faded away. This woman wasn't Bella. Her scent told him she was a vampire, but, oh, she looked so much like Bella. It was uncanny. They could have been sisters. There were small differences here and there. This woman's eyes were hazel instead of chocolate brown and they were a bit closer together than Bella's. Her clothes were all wrong. Bella would never wear a black and red bustier over a leather skirt so short that her underwear showed when she walked. "My name is Lauren, not Bella", she said.

"'Bella' means 'Beautiful'," he said. "It's a perfect nickname for you."

She smiled and preened under the compliment.

"I'm, Edward." He gave her the smile that had always charmed women, a smile that felt like a mask.

"It's _sooo_ nice to meet you," she purred, caressing his chest with her fingers.

No, she wasn't Bella, but she looked so much like her that he could pretend, just for an evening... He leaned in, his lips so close to her ear that they brushed when he spoke. "Do you have a room?"

She moaned softly and lust punched through his gut. He was as hard as a rock, more aroused than he'd been in- He cut off that thought.

She smiled and took his hand, leading him back down the hallway. The heroin addict was just coming out of the room Edward had used before. He started to speak and Edward nailed him with a glare. He stood aside, silently, as Edward and Not-Bella passed.

She had barely closed the door behind them when Edward began tearing at her clothes. "Hey! I like that top," she complained.

"Take it off then," he snarled, pushing up her skirt and yanking her underwear down. His fingers found her already wet. She pulled at the buttons, her full breasts spilling out and he latched onto a nipple sucking greedily. Her hands threaded through his hair and she moaned his name. A sound he had always wanted to hear from Bella.

He unbuttoned his pants and rammed into her. She shrieked, clawing at his shoulders. _Good_, Oh God. It was so good.

"Bella," he rasped. "Oh, _fuck_."

Plaster dust was falling around them like dry snow, the wall cracking under the force of his thrusts. Not-Bella wrapped her legs around his waist and screamed as an orgasm ripped through her. As Edward came, he bit down on her neck, sending her into another orgasm. But she didn't taste right, dead vampire blood devoid of nutrition, laced with chemicals and drugs.

They stumbled over to the bed, momentarily sated. She stripped the rest of the way, giggling at their prior haste. "Undress, I want to see you naked," she cooed, caressing her own body.

"Give me a moment," he said. "I'll be right back."

"Don't be long," she said, moaning softly she teased herself with her fingers.

He went back into the lobby and found the heroin addict leaning against the wall. He grabbed him roughly and bit into his throat. He hadn't taken much from the guy before and maybe the junkie would be a pint low when he left but that wasn't the worst thing he put his body through.

The rush hit him as he pulled away. He returned to Lauren's room and studied the Not-Bella writhing on the bed before him. The drugs helped with the illusion. He pulled off his clothes and joined her.


	7. Informed

Author's note: This chapter contains violence and themes which some readers might find disturbing.

* * *

><p>Informed<p>

_One week later_

On Tuesday, Bella left the animal shelter early and headed down toward the Clinton Street bridge. The sun was already starting to set and she wanted to be home in time to meet Emmett, but she had to check on Mr. Greyson. He hadn't been to dine at the restaurant yet. She had handful of fliers when intended to tape up nearby so everyone would be sure to see them. She hoped Mr. Greyson didn't think she'd abandoned him when she hadn't come to deliver meals.

The restaurant was a smash hit and not only among the homeless. A couple of newspapers had written articles about Bella's (Emmett solemnly swore he hadn't influenced the paper at which he worked to do a story) and they'd also gotten floods of paying customers, people who dined and left hefty donations to cover the costs of their meals. Bella had been bewildered by the attention and concerned that these people enjoying a fad to eat amongst the homeless would be crowding out the hungry but the wait for a table was never very long. There had been a handful of incidents where paying diners had been offended by the policy, but seating was firmly first-come-first served whether or not the diners intended on paying. The staff seemed to manage the situation well. Most of them had worked with the homeless in prior occupations, and they were very kind.

As Emmett had prophesied she would, Bella had insisted on repaying him the money he'd spent on creating the place. He'd explained having access to so much cash on a reporter's salary by claiming that it was his inheritance from his parents' estate and Bella hadn't questioned it. She'd been touched and amazed by the effort he'd put into it, but she didn't see it as being something he'd done for _her_, but rather as something he'd done for the homeless, which seemed to mean a lot more to her.

Two young men leaning against a car hooted at her as she passed, but Bella ignored them. After she crossed the bridge a few blocks later, she stopped to tape up a flier on a pole and headed down the slope. Under the bridge was an assortment of tents, shacks and lean-tos, all constructed of scavenged material. The cops never came down here, so the structures were more or less permanent, being added to and modified as circumstance allowed. Mr. Greyson lived in a tent at the back of the bridge, a desirable location because of its protection from the wind but granted to him because of his age and his near-universal acceptance as the leader of the group, a mayor of sorts of the little settlement under the bride.

Bella called his name as she approached, what served as knocking here. After a moment, there was a shuffle and Mr. Greyson stuck his head out of the flap. "Bella, my dear," he said. "How nice of you to come and visit. Please, just a moment and I will join you."

She heard rustling inside as he pulled on his tattered suit jacket. He coughed several times and emerged a little red-faced. "Mr. Greyson, are you all right?" Bella asked, concerned.

"Quite well, my dear. Just a sniffle." He blotted his nose with a stained cotton handkerchief and gestured over to the upturned buckets near a small fire that burned in a low barrel. Mr. Greyson positioned Bella's bucket like he was pushing in a lady's chair and offered it to her with a gesture. She took a seat and he positioned his own bucket nearby, but not too near; he well knew of Bella's aversion to being touched.

"You haven't come to visit my new restaurant," Bella said. "I won't know if the marinara sauce is right until you try it." Bella always presented her charity as if the person to whom it was given was doing her a favor by accepting it.

"I apologize, but I haven't been able to get away," Mr. Geyson said, he tried to suppress another cough which shook his slight frame. Bella's concern ratcheted up a notch. He'd been too sick to walk over to the restaurant but he'd never admit to it and Bella knew he'd refuse to see a doctor. "I'm hoping to get there early next week, if my schedule permits. My neighbors tell me it's quite good and it's a beautiful place."

"I can't take any credit for its appearance," Bella said. "My boyfriend Emmett is the one who actually built it."

"You're still seeing him?" Mr. Greyson looked at her oddly.

Bella didn't notice because she was under the influence of young love, a condition similar to that of new converts to religion who want everyone around them to join as well, or new parents who are certain that everyone finds their baby as beautiful, and tales of its antics as entertaining as they do. "Oh, Mr. Greyson, he's so wonderful. He's so good to me. I never thought I would find someone like him. I thought men like that only existed in fiction."

"More apt than I'm sure you realize," he said, stroking his chin and staring into the barrel's flames. He coughed into his handkerchief. "Bella, I have some concerns about him. Your father being gone, I feel I ought to step in and express them because you need to hear it. You haven't known this man for very long, have you?"

"A little less than a month," Bella admitted. "But we spend so much time together, more than the average couple dating, that I feel like it's been much longer."

"But how much do you really _know _about him?" Mr. Greyson stressed.

"Enough," Bella said flatly.

Mr. Greyson had another coughing fit and one of the residents brought him a bottle of water. He accepted it gratefully and drank before he spoke. "Where was he born? Where is his family?

Bella knew the answer to the latter and didn't think the former was all that important. "His family are deceased."

"All of them? And what of that room mate of his? His family has all passed as well?"

Bella was starting to feel uncomfortable. "I don't know what you're getting at-"

"Have you ever seen either of them during the day?"

Sure she had. Emmett had spent the day at her house, the first day they'd met. "They work," she said. "They're not available during the day."

"Are you sure that's what they're really doing?" he asked.

"What an odd question! What do you mean?"

"Have you ever called either of them at work?"

"I call Emmett's cell phone all the time."

"No, their _work place_. Have you ever called it?"

Bella wrinkled her brow. Just what was he getting at? That Emmett and Edward weren't gainfully employed? Maybe that they were doing something illegal? "I'll call right now," she declared and pulled her phone from her pocket. Edward had refused to accept it back saying that there was no way it could be returned and so she might as well keep it until the minutes were gone and Emmett had argued that it was something she _should_ have.

Bella called Information and got the number to the _Daily Recorder_ and dialed it. After she navigated the obligatory phone menu to the operator, she asked to be transferred to Emmett McCarty's office.

"No listing by that name, ma'am," the operator said in a bored, toneless voice.

"What do you mean?"

"No 'Emmett McCarty' works here."

Bella felt like she'd been punched. "A- are you sure?"

"I got the company directory right in front of me, ma'am."

Bella's hand was shaking so hard that she found it difficult to hold the phone in place. "What about Edward Masen?"

There was a brief pause. "No one under that name, either."

Mr. Greyson was coughing again. Bella was getting desperate.

"There has to be... Can you please transfer me to your Human Resources department?"

The operator sounded a little miffed that Bella didn't believe her but said, "Hold please" and transferred the call. Bella couldn't look over to where Mr. Greyson was sitting, the handkerchief pressed over his mouth. She felt like the world had just been ripped away from under her feet and she was floating rudderless in the void. _Please, oh please_ she thought.

The HR department had never heard of an Emmett McCarty or Edward Masen. The HR director was a kind and patient woman named Mrs. Cope, who seemed to understand the young woman on the other end of the line was undergoing a serious crisis and was willing to assist in any way she could by trying various spellings of each name, combinations of initials, by age group and finally, department- a department that turned out not to exist. "We don't have anyone named 'Emmett' employed here, in any capacity, Miss Swan. I've done the hiring for this company for fifteen years. It is sort of an unusual name, and we don't have such a large staff that I wouldn't remember if I'd hired someone by that name. I'm sorry. We do have one 'Edward' working here, an Edward Bryant, but he's in his late sixties and you said the names you were searching for were younger men."

Bella thanked Mrs. Cope as politely as she could, and Mrs. Cope said that she was very sorry she couldn't help her. Her tone was so sympathetic that it brought tears to her eyes. She ended the call and stared sightlessly at the ground.

"Bella, my dear? Bella?" Mr. Greyson's voice was soft and gentle. Bella realized that he'd been trying to get her attention and looked up at him, blinking rapidly to try to clear her bleary eyes.

"I'm so sorry you're hurting right now," Mr. Greyson said, "But I thought you should know that they're not all that they seem."

"Yes, thank you," Bella said automatically, rising to her feet. She wanted to go home. Home to her nice, safe little house by the sea. Where she could lock the door and refuse to speak to anyone. Where she could bury her head in her pillow for the next ten years.

"Please, allow me to escort you home," Mr. Greyson said, alarmed at Bella's pallor and stricken expression.

"No," Bella said, more tersely than she normally would. "You're ill. I'll be fine."

Bella-"

"No," she said again. "I just- I want to be alone."

He started apologizing again and Bella walked away. She was being unforgiveably rude, but she couldn't endure any more sympathy at the moment or she would break down into tears and never stop.

She'd trusted him.

She plodded across the bridge and down the street towards home, her feet on automatic pilot. Her head was full of snatches of chaotic thoughts which she was unable to weave into a narrative. She felt if she could just get home, she could lay all of her thoughts out before her, like untangling bits of string, and then she would be able to think.

If she could only get home...

The young men who had hooted at Bella on her way to the bridge were still there but Bella didn't notice them. In her present state, she wouldn't have noticed a Mardi Gras parade, let alone two young men who had her pegged as a victim and were now in stealth mode.

They hopped into their car after she passed and followed her down the street slowly, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Bella handed it to them on a silver platter by taking a shortcut through an alley. One of them hopped out of the car and the other drove around the block to the other side of the alley to cut off her only escape route.

Bella didn't hear the young man in the faded football jersey call out to her at first. "Hey, lady, you _deaf_?" he shouted and she spun around, startled.

"I- I'm sorry," she said, and alarm bells rang at his smirk and the way he stalked toward her. "What do you want?"

He grinned. Bella slowly backed away and began to walk faster toward the end of the alley. She heard him speed up as well, the chain that attached his wallet to his belt loop jingling. Bella broke out into a run and he did, too. Alarm segued into full-blown panic. A car pulled into the end of the alley in front of her and Bella skidded to a halt. She waved frantically at the driver and he stopped the car. At first she felt relief until the young man driving emerged from the car wearing an identical cruel and malicious grin.

Bella fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the cell phone, but the man in the jersey slapped it out of her hands before she could dial and it went skidding off across the pavement. Bella turned to run back the way she'd came, but Football Jersey tackled her. Her chin hit the pavement and her teeth came together in a painful _clack. _For a moment, her vision grayed out and she saw stars, bright flashes winking against the darkness.

She had never fought anyone before, never struck another human being, but now Bella punched and kicked wildly, fueled by fear and adrenaline. Her fist connected with Football Jersey's jaw and she felt an agonizing snap in her hand, the pain so severe she thought she would vomit. He chuckled. "Careful now, that almost hurt."

The car's driver captured one of her arms and Football Jersey grabbed the other. As a cooperative effort, they half-pulled, half-carried Bella to the car where they threw her down on the hood.

_This can't be happening_, Bella thought, feeling the hot metal against her back, the vibrations from the still-running engine. Driver yanked at the top of her dress, ripping it down the front while Football Jersey pulled up her skirt. When a hand grabbed her underwear and yanked, Bella finally found her voice and let out a terrified scream.

* * *

><p>Emmett waited on Bella outside her house, sitting on her delivery wagon. He checked his watch again for the third time in as many minutes. She should have been home by now and Bella was never late. She was rigorous about her schedule which had caused a few situations in which Emmett was slightly exasperated with her, because she wouldn't leave until the <em>exact<em> minute necessary and went into high-anxiety mode if anything detained her from leaving precisely on schedule.

He jogged to his car and drove to the animal shelter, thinking perhaps an emergency with one of the puppies she cared for might have delayed her and perhaps she'd simply forgotten to call him. Bella wasn't there. The shelter's manager, Angela, was locking up as Emmett pulled into the lot. To save time, Emmett left the car running as he ran up to ask her where Bella was. Fortunately, Angela was one of the few people at the shelter who liked Bella and they had chatted about the restaurant and the fliers Bella wanted to put up before Bella left.

Emmett jumped back into his car, flooring the gas pedal and spraying gravel behind him as he sped out of the lot toward Clinton Street. He dialed Bella's cell phone and it rang endlessly in his ear. (Another of Bella's "quirks": she always answered on the third ring, whether it meant running through the house to catch it in time or standing patiently beside the phone until the third ring.) He was passing an alley when he heard Bella's scream and slammed on the breaks, throwing his phone onto the passenger seat. In his haste, he tore his car door from its hinges, and it clanged heavily onto the pavement. The men attacking Bella never even looked up at the sound.

They had her pinned to the hood of a car, pulling at her clothes and laughing at her struggles, her pleas. The man in a football jersey started unbuttoning his pants.

_Rage_, intense and red-hot. Emmett roared and charged. Before the sound had even registered in their brains, he was between them. He ripped off Football Jersey's head and flung the other man into the wall using all of his strength. His body broke and splattered like an egg dropped to the floor, killing him instantly.

It happened so fast, Bella wasn't sure what she was seeing. Football Jersey still stood at the end of the car's hood, but his head had apparently disappeared of its own accord. Simply winked out of existence. Blood spurted upward into the empty space where it should have been. His body finally realized that he was dead and collapsed, banging against the hood and spraying Bella with warm blood before landing on the pavement. Bella looked up from the corpse. She saw Emmett ... shocked, blinking, confused. She looked into his face, and found it twisted with rage, his lips pulled back in a snarl exposing ... fangs.

_Fangs_.

Bella let out a low whine of terror and tried to scramble back, her heels slipping and skidding on the surface of the hood. Fear made her crazed. She was nearly raped and then she faced a snarling, fanged monster that wore Emmett's face. _A monster_. She lost control of her bladder as her mind blanked out, unable to bear any more trauma. She moved purely on instinct now and instinct was telling her to run, _run._

Emmett was momentarily confused by Bella's fear of him until he realized what she'd just seen. "It's me sweetheart," he said as soothingly as he could under the circumstances. "Bella, it's me!"

She scrambled to the side of the hood and flopped off of it, landing with a graceless thud. Instinctively, she had reached out with her broken hand to break her fall. It bent back and the pain was so intense, she couldn't even scream. She tried to get to her feet and her knees gave out, dropping her back onto the filthy pavement.

Emmett scooped her up, bewildered when she fought him. "Bella! Bella! It's me. _Bella_! It's Emmett, honey!" He may as well have been speaking Swahili. She fought him like a wildcat, kicking wildly and hitting him with her one good hand. He wrapped his arms around her firmly, pinning in her limbs, trying not to hurt her, trying to prevent her from hurting _herself _with that frantic flailing. She was trapped against his chest, forced into immobility. After struggling a few more futile seconds, she gave up, going limp in forced submission, trembling like a cornered rabbit.

Emmett hated to put her back on the car hood but he had nowhere else and he wanted to check her for damage. He set her down and she drew back both feet and kicked him square in the gut with all the force in her legs. It caught him off guard, concerned as he was with checking her for injuries, not defending himself. He lost his balance and landed on his ass. Her her legs flashed in front of his face as she jumped off the hood and ran like hell, trying to clutch her clothing closed with one working hand.

Defeated, he watched her dart around the car and run out of the alley. He couldn't chase after her and add to her terror. His face set in a grim line. He had a mess to clean up and an accident to stage. He needed help and there was only one person he could reach out to.

* * *

><p>Lauren Mallory was a very happy girl.<p>

She was head-over-heels in love with her new boyfriend, Edward and she was starting to believe he might be The One.

Her mother had once cynically told her that she could pick only one out of three: handsome, kind or rich. She wished the old bitch was still alive so that Lauren could show her that she had managed to snag a man that embodied all three.

He was handsome. All of her female friends (and some of the males) envied her and if Lauren could have articulated one goal in life, it would have been to be envied. Everyone knew Edward Masen, an Ancient, and that she had captured his attention was an enormous feather in her cap.

He was exciting. They spent every night out on the town, circulating in the vampire underground of clubs. Lauren had many friends and she was eager to show off the prize she'd landed. His appetites for drugs, blood and sex were enormous. He'd satisfy the first two at the club and then the third with her wherever the urge happened to hit him.

He was rich. Almost her entire apartment had been refurnished with his gifts and nearly every day he presented her with a new item of jewelry. Not little diamond chips, either. He'd never presented her with a stone less than three carats. Yesterday, he had given her the Porsche she had hinted she wanted, and in her favorite color, too, canary yellow.

He was skilled in bed, the most sexually adventurous lover she'd ever had. He was never jealous if she wanted to add a "snack in the sack" as long as she was willing to indulge his kinks as well.

Not that he as without flaws. She wasn't too enthralled with his taste in clothing, to tell the truth. He bought her long, baggy dresses and insisted she wear them. Lauren complied, only because the sex was even better if she did. He'd also bought her a bottle of stinky freesia bodywash which he claimed was his favorite scent. Oh, well, she supposed every relationship had its areas of compromise. His favorite sexual role play was having her play the shy virgin, which was a laugh because she'd never been shy, even when she _was_ a virgin, a status she'd lost when she was thirteen. She'd play the virginal girl in a long dress, reeking of flowery soap. Maybe he had an Amish fetish.

She was waiting for Edward to join her tonight at O Negative. (He'd flatly refused when Lauren had suggested they move in together and she'd not yet seen his apartment.) Lauren tapped her fingers on the rim of her glass of alcohol-laced blood impatiently. If he thought she'd wait all night for him, he had another think coming. O Negative was dead tonight and she was getting bored. If he didn't arrive within the next ten minutes, she was leaving.

She saw movement at the door and craned her neck to see who it was. She sagged back in disappointment, but perked up again when she heard the big guy asking the people milling around if anyone knew Edward Masen. "I do," she said. "I'm his girlfriend."

The big guy whipped his head in her direction and came to stand by her at the bar. "His _girlfriend_?" he repeated in tones of astonishment. He had the strangest expression on his face.

"Yeah, I'm Lauren," she said, sticking out her hand. "But Edward calls me 'Bella'."

"I see," the big guy said slowly. He took her hand and gave it a perfunctory shake. "Have you seen Edward? I really need to talk to him."

Lauren shrugged. "He should already be here. He's late. Oh! There he is!" She pointed at the door where Edward stood, looking slightly worse for wear.

Edward spotted Emmett and his eyes narrowed. Emmett hurried over to him and they began a hushed conversation. Lauren listened intently, keeping her eyes fastened on her glass so they wouldn't catch her eavesdropping, her vampire hearing picking up bits and pieces of the conversation. "... attacked ... bodies ... Bella ..."

"Bella?" Edward said, his voice raising. "Where is she now?"

Lauren openly stared at them, confused. Edward obviously wasn't speaking of her. Who was this other Bella and why did Edward look so alarmed?

Edward didn't even bother to speak to her. He turned and followed the big guy out the door. Lauren jumped to her feet, indignant. If Edward thought she was going to put up with this treatment- Well, she would. She wouldn't risk losing him over something like this, but she certainly intended to throw a fit and get something expensive out of it to appease her.

And she would find out who this other woman was and why she shared Lauren's nickname.

* * *

><p>Edward listened to Emmett's story as they drove to where Emmett had hastily hidden the bodies. Edward had a lot more experience with disposing of inconvenient corpses.<p>

"You literally rip a guy's head off and then let her see your fangs?" Edward groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Christ on a crutch, Emmett. How could you be so careless?"

"Concealment wasn't first and foremost in my mind," Emmett snapped. "She was- Oh, fuck, Edward. She was _terrified._ I think she may have been even more scared of me than she was of those would-be rapists."

"Well, no shit, Sherlock," Edward retorted. "What gave you your first clue? When she pissed her pants?"

Emmett said nothing. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, compressing the metal beneath his fingers.

"What about me?" Edward said suddenly. "Did you say anything about me?"

Emmett's reply was full of scathing hostility. "You weren't exactly a pertinent topic of discussion at the moment." Only Edward would think of himself at a time like this.

Emmett pulled the car up to the place where he'd hidden the bodies and their vehicle. Edward was out of the car before Emmett brought it to a complete halt. He watched as Edward poked around, examining the bodies and the setting Emmett had chosen: an isolated stretch of road with a ravine. Edward considered for a moment and then laid out the plan for staging a believable accident that would explain the wounds. This sort of thing was getting increasingly difficult in this age of forensics, which was why the Queen had decreed that vampires could not kill humans.

They set about arranging the bodies and crushing and scrub trees as if the car had rolled down the hill. Emmett obeyed Edward's instructions but his mind wasn't on the work. It was on Bella. He was berating himself for not having told her. Because of his reluctance, she had to find out his secret in the most traumatizing way possible.

They finished, and Edward kicked a hole in the gas tank, lighting a cigarette as the gas gurgled out in a pool around the wreckage. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to try to talk to her," Emmett said. "And keep trying until she listens to me."

"Don't say anything about me," Edward rasped, his voice low and tight. "Don't ruin it for both of us."

"Fuck you," Emmett barked in tones of astonishment at his audacity. He headed up the hill to his car. "Find your own way home, asshole."

Edward didn't reply. He flicked his half-smoked cigarette into the pool of gasoline and watched the flames shoot up into the night sky.

* * *

><p>Bella didn't stop running until she reached her house. Sobbing gasps burned her throat as she burst in through the front door of her house, she slammed it behind her and locked it, engaging the deadbolt and the chain. She pulled a chair under the knob for good measure and ran to the back door to make sure it was locked, too.<p>

Not that it would keep him out.

She went to the bathroom and turned the hot water knob, stripping off her ripped and muddy clothing almost frantically, wanting it off her skin. She stepped under the burning hot shower with a gasp of relief. Filthy. She was so filthy.

An empty bottle of body wash later, Bella still didn't feel clean. Her skin was bright red from the uncooled water pouring out of her shower and the vigorous scrubbing. But she was out of soap and she felt vulnerable in here, thank you very much Albert Hitchcock. She turned off the shower and climbed out, wrapping a towel around her torso. She avoided the pile of dirty clothing and headed into her bedroom.

Beautiful lay peacefully in the center of her bed. "_Mrow?_" he said twisting his head to look up at her as she headed for the highboy.

"Yeah, bad day," she croaked. She pulled out a pair of underwear and one of her long cotton nightgowns. The one she chose was one her mother had made for her during her short-lived interest in sewing. It was the closest thing Bella had now to being held in her mother's arms.

She was still shaking from fear. She was still in shock from what she had seen. She kept questioning it, wondering if somehow her memory could be faulty or her eyes could have been tricked. Trying to find any way to escape the idea that Emmett was a monster.

She had to hide. He would come here, there was no doubt in her mind. She had to hide. She went into the living room and crawled inside the coat closet. She could see into the living room through the louvered doors. If she remained very still, very quiet, he might not know she was in here.

She must have dozed off because she jerked back into consciousness with a start. Footsteps. She could hear someone walking in the house. A tiny whimper escaped her. She drew her knees against her chest and pressed her face against them. _Don't find me don't find me don't find me._

She peeked over her knees and saw jean-clad legs walk past the closet door. She closed her eyes tightly, holding her breath, squeezing her legs and trying to make her self small and invisible. The legs stopped and his torso came into sight as he sat down beside the closet door.

"Bella," Emmett said softly. "Bella, sweetheart, I could never hurt you. I love you. Please don't be afraid of me. You know me."

Tears flowed freely down Bella's cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away.

"Bella, honey, please come out of there so we can talk."

"I'm not in here," she said stupidly. Then, she burst into hysterical laughter because the situation was so absurd. Her laughter turned into screaming sobs and that's when Emmett opened the door.

She was to weak to fight him. She already knew she couldn't win. She had pitted her strength against his in that alley and he had held her still like she was nothing but a struggling kitten.

He sat down on the sofa, holding her on his lap. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back in soothing circles. She remained stock still, her only motion the blinks of her eyes and the slight movement of her chest when she breathed.

"Bella? Sweetheart? Would you please look at me?"

"Are you going to kill me now?" she asked, dully.

"No! Bella, Jesus ... I could _never_ hurt you."

"I know your secret."

"That doesn't matter," he said firmly.

"Wh- What are you, exactly?"

"I'm a vampire."

"Is Edward ...?"

That made him laugh for some reason. "Yes. Yes, he is. He made me what I am."

She expelled a breath slowly, blowing hair out of her eyes. "Do you ... kill people?"

"Not usually. It's against our laws. Yes, we do have laws," he said, in reply to her quick, puzzled glance. "We have a Queen, Victoria Volturi, and a police force which is referred to by her last name. There's a council that acts as judges, though verdicts can be appealed to the queen. There are a few simple laws and violation of them means death."

"You can be killed?" she asked quietly.

He closed his eyes. "Not easily, but yes, we can. Sunlight, decapitation, fire, all of those will do it. Not stakes or holy water, and crosses don't repel us."

"Sunlight ... That's what you were waiting for on the cliff the day we met."

"Yes."

"Why did you want to die?"

"I told you the truth. It was because I was lonely, unhappy and just going through the motions of existence. I didn't see any point to dragging it out longer. Eternity is a lot harder than most people think, especially if you're alone."

"You weren't alone. You had Edward."

He gave her a rueful chuckle. "That's almost worse than being alone. Edward isn't a very sympathetic creature. That's probably why he's survived so long. Because he just skimmed along on the surface, never getting attached or bogged down with emotions like love and grief."

"How old is he?"

"No one knows but Edward, and he's not telling. I know he's older than a thousand years because he has he title of Ancient and that grants him an automatic seat on the Council, but other than that, I'm not sure. He's dropped various hints over the years, things he's seen, but you can never be sure with him whether he's joking or not."

Bella tried to digest the idea of a thousand years. At times in her life, the weight of eighty or so years n this planet seemed to heavy a burden. She couldn't imagine such a long existence. "What about you? How old are you?"

"471 years since I was changed, maybe twenty-five in mortal years. They didn't issue birth certificates back then."

"Pity. You can never be president." It flew out of her mouth and Bella was astonished at herself, being able to tell jokes at such a time. Emmett gave a small smile and she supposed he probably didn't feel the least bit like laughing.

"I'd be ineligible anyway, having been born in England." His face grew grave as he looked down at her. "Bella, honey, please, please forgive me. I didn't know how to tell you. I was so afraid I'd frighten you off. You were so skittish at first. And then I loved you so much that I didn't think I could bear it if you rejected me."

"I understand," she said and his face began to light up. "I understand; that doesn't mean I forgive." It fell back into its grim lines. "You lied to me over and over again. Your family didn't die of the Bird Flu. You didn't meet Edward in college. You aren't an investigator." Suddenly, she remembered the shock and betrayal she'd felt earlier in the day. "I was going to talk to you about the last part tonight. I called your supposed workplace today and they'd never heard of you."

Emmett hung his head. "Yes, I lied to you. I regret it, but at the time, I felt it necessary. I couldn't tell you the truth." He closed his eyes and laid his head back. "My family died about two years after I was made a vampire. I couldn't go near them at first because a fledgling's control is spotty at best. They thought I'd been robbed and killed, my body dumped in the Thames. Things like that happened all the time down on the docks.

"I sent them money. Edward hid it for me in my things and my mother found it when they were cleaning out my possessions. I take comfort in knowing their last years were good ones with plenty to eat and money enough to rent better lodgings. They were carried off by the Sweat before I could see them again."

"The Sweat? Isn't that the same disease that almost killed Anne Boleyn?"

He nodded, glint of admiration in his eye for her knowledge of history. "I couldn't be with them to tend them in their illness and that has always haunted me. I tried to make up for it in a small way by paying to have them buried in our family's parish church. Ordinarily, they would have ended up in a rented grave, their bones exhumed and put in the crypt or catacombs to make room for someone else, but I paid to have them permanently buried near the altar in the church. The graves aren't there anymore." his voice grew wistful. "The church was bombed during the Blitz and completely destroyed. There's an office building there now."

"That's so sad," Bella said softly. she reached up and cupped his cheek. Emmett closed his eyes and nuzzled into her hand, kissing her palm.

"Bella, I love you."

She withdrew her hand and he ached from its loss. "I loved Emmett McCarty, a human, a man that I could grow old with. I don't know who _you_ are."

"I'm the same person, Bella. A few of the details are different but inside, I'm still me. You fell in love with me once. I'll try to make you fall in love with me all over again, if you'll let me."

She looked up at him, her doves' eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Bella, tell me what I need to do," he begged.

"I don't know," she whispered.

He leaned down and pressed a cool kiss to her forehead. "We'll find out together, then."


	8. Imposter

Chapter 8

Imposter

Emmett and Bella lay on her bed, holding hands. Beautiful lay between them as if to chaperone the proceedings.

They had left the living room with the coming dawn. Bella had pointed out the time and Emmett had begged her not to make him leave. His eyes had been so sweet and sad that Bella simply couldn't refuse him even though her heart still ached. She had consented and Emmett scooped her up gently, carrying Bella against his chest like a bride. He laid her down on the bed like she was made of crystal and then gingerly perched himself on the other side. Bella patted the mattress in invitation and he lay down beside her. It was Bella who had clasped Emmett's hand, needing the connection, needing the comfort. For a short while, they lay there in silence. Beautiful jumped up and rubbed his cheeks over Emmett's neck, and then flopped down with a contented purr. Emmett chuckled softly and stroked the cat's patchy fur.

It was Bella who spoke. "Do you need to sleep now that the sun is coming up?"

"No, I don't sleep every day now. About twice a week, depending on how active I've been and how much I've fed."

_Fed._ She disliked that term intensely. "Do you- Do you really drink blood?"

"Yes." Emmett's voice was tight.

"Does it ... _hurt_ people when you do?"

"No, it can feel very pleasurable if the vampire wants, or we can make the person forget the incident entirely."

"You can read minds?"

"Yes, and implant thoughts. Edward tried it on you the evening of the opera. For some reason, you're able to block him and he's never come up against that before."

She didn't want to ask if Emmett had ever tried it on her. She didn't want to hear the answer..

"How do you avoid leaving bite marks?"

"There's a healing agent in our saliva. The holes are gone within minutes."

Another silence fell as Bella digested this information. She spoke hesitantly, but she had to ask. "Have either you or Edward ever bitten me?"

"No."

Her voice was timid. "Did you want to?"

"Yes," Emmett sighed. "You smell so good, so clean and pure, no drugs, no chemicals."

"What stopped you? I wouldn't remember it anyway."

Emmett rolled on his side to face her. "I wouldn't violate your trust like that."

"I suppose you have to draw the line_ somewhere_," Bella snapped, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Almost immediately, she was contrite. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's still a little raw."

"It's all right Bella. I'm just grateful you're talking to me at all."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Tell me how you came to be a- what you are."

Emmett told her about the dice game, the attack in the alley and Edward's offer.

"Why did he do it?" Bella asked. "Why did he offer to change you?"

Emmett shook his head. "I don't know. I've asked, but he won't tell me. I do know that I wasn't his first fledgling, but he won't tell me what happened to them."

"Maybe he doesn't want to admit he was lonely and that his other ... fledglings left him. I mean, you're not forced to stay together, right?"

"Right. I could have left once I was fully mature, but Edward and I were companionable and so I just stayed with him."

"You were never ... uh, _together_, were you?"

"No," Emmett said with some amusement. "No one who knew Edward would ever believe me when I said that, considering ..." He stopped.

"Considering what?"

Emmett was reluctant. "Well, Edward is a bit of a slut. Just about every acquaintance ends up in his bed."

Bella chewed her lip. "I think I hurt him, Emmett, but I couldn't continue dating him when I knew we weren't right for each other."

"There's something I need to tell you," Emmett said. "Edward is seeing someone. Her name is Lauren; she's one of us, a vampire. She ... uh ... she looks just like you."

"Maybe he just has a thing for short brunettes," Bella offered, attempting to avoid having to come to an uncomfortable conclusion.

"He calls her by your name." Emmett said, his eyes fastened to where his fingers traced a pattern on the blanket. "He told her that it means 'beautiful', so she thinks it's just a sweet nickname."

"Oh, God," Bella whispered. "That's _way_ creepy, Emmett."

"Bella, you've got to understand something about Edward. He was changed at about seventeen years old. The human brain isn't fully grown until about twenty five. So, when I say he's immature, I mean it literally. He thinks like a seventeen year old boy and he always will."

"But that's... we're talking about Norman Bates shit, Emmett. Can vampires go crazy?"

Emmett considered. "Not usually. The only cases of insanity I've heard of were fledglings. Once in a while something goes- Once in a while, people come back _wrong."_

"What do you mean?"

"Every now and then something goes awry with the change. It doesn't happen often, and when it does, it's usually just the person emerging from the change with a different personality. But once in a while, fledglings have to be destroyed because they can't be controlled. We have laws that are supposed to prevent problems."

"Laws like not changing people who are already crazy, I'd imagine."

"Exactly. When a vampire wants to change someone, they have to apply to the Queen or Council for permission. The person has to be free of mental issues- that sort of thing. Emergency situations are usually forgiven, like when Edward found me moments from death, but not if the person's wounds were self-inflicted."

"What happens if a vampire changes someone without permission?"

"They both are executed," Emmett said and Bella shuddered.

"All vampires are required to be registered in the VAMPbase."

Bella giggled. "VAMPbase? DO they really call it that?"

Emmet chuckled. "Yeah, they do. It was named by the Queen's husband, James. He has a quirky sense of humor. Anyway, if a vampire is found without a registration number, they have two choices: register or die. The Queen does not tolerate rogues and the Volturi are everywhere. Anyone who tried to hide a fledgling would find it very difficult."

"How many vampires are there?"

"World-wide? Maybe a hundred thousand."

"And your Queen rules them all?"

Emmett's lips twitched. "Tries to, anyway. It's been an uphill battle. She's only been Queen for about twenty years. A mere blink of time to a vampire. And there are many who do not accept her rule. Until she came along, there was no Queen. There was only the Council of Ancients, and they had to do their own dirty work. If they condemned someone, they had to go carry out the sentence themselves, so you can imagine that there was some reluctance to enforce the few laws that they had at the time. There was a prophecy in the Council's books that said a ruler would come to them, someone who bore this certain birthmark. She fit the description, so, boom, we have a queen and now she's passing all these new laws about not killing humans and restrictions on making fledglings and having to register in a database. It was pretty tough for some of them to accept."

"I can understand _that,_" Bella said, feeling overwhelmed herself.

"Bella, please try to understand. I wanted to tell you, but every passing day, it became more difficult. Slowly he moved closer. When she didn't object, he smoothed back her hair from her forehead and pressed a kiss to her soft, warm skin. "I love you, Bella. If you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

* * *

><p>Edward was being an asshole and Lauren was getting really pissed off. Why the fuck had he come over tonight if he was just going to sit there on her sofa, smoking cigarette after cigarette (God, she hated the stench of those things but she'd been hesitant to tell him not to smoke in here) and staring into space? He'd refused to go out. Demanded that the turn off the television and didn't want to talk, either. She was getting very frustrated.<p>

"Goddammit, sit down and be quiet," he snapped. "Can't you just read or something?"

Lauren stared at him. _"Read_?"

"Yes, read," he said, his scathing tone as sharp as a knife. "It means to derive the meaning of a body of text comprised of written characters by mentally interpreting the symbols. I won't deduct points if your lips move."

"Fuck you. I know how to read!"

"Do you?" he said in exaggerated astonishment.

She stomped her foot. "Dammit, Edward, why are you trying to pick a fight?"

Abruptly, he changed demeanor, smiling softly at her. Lauren felt herself melt at the sight of it. "I'm sorry, Bella, honey. Why don't you go put on one of your pretty dresses, hmm?" He plucked gently at one of the curls she'd allowed to remain loose when she put her hair up. "Let your hair down, and I'll brush it for you."

Lauren grimaced. "I don't like those stupid dresses."

His tender expression vanished. "Fine." He went over to her hall tree and snatched off his jacket.

"Where are you going?" she cried.

He didn't reply. He opened the door and strode out into the hall. Lauren ran after him. "Edward, wait, I'm sorry!"

He punched the down arrow on the elevator panel. "This isn't working out, Lauren."

The five words she feared the most. Air whooshed out of her in shock. It was the first time he'd ever said her real name.

"Edward, you don't mean that," she cajoled. "Please, come back inside and we'll talk about it." She'd get him back inside, give him a blowjob so good he'd forget all about breaking up with her.

"There's nothing to talk about." The elevator dinged and the doors opened. "I'm done with you."

"I'm not done with _you_!" she retorted. He entered the elevator. She thrust her arm out and blocked the door. "Edward, come on, whatever it is, we can fix it."

Their eyes met. "I thought I could make you into something you're not," Edward said.

"You mean the dresses?" she asked, confused. "Please, Edward. I'll wear them all the time. I'll do the virgin act for you. I'll do whatever you want. Please, don't go! I love you!"

He knocked her arm away from the door. "It's over. Let it go." The doors slid shut and he was gone. Lauren let out a scream of frustration and kicked the metal doors, bending them. One of her neighbors poked his head out of his door to see what was causing all the noise. "What the fuck are you looking at?" she shouted at him and he quickly ducked back inside.

Lauren went to the stairs and pounded down the three flights with the idea of catching up with Edward and begging him and saying something-anything- to make him come back. When she reached the lobby, he was already gone and she saw his car flash by the doors. She took off running after him. She gave a regretful look down at her gorgeous Christian Louboutin Mignons. Being a vampire gave her the grace and speed to run after a car in heels but the shoes were unlikely to survive the pounding.

Where was he going? He was driving east toward the coast and she knew his apartment was somewhere downtown. It was getting close to dawn and usually at this hour, all good little vampires were nesting down for the day.

He pulled up on a residential street and parked the car. Lauren hid in a clump of trees, thankfully downwind so he couldn't catch her scent.

He approached a house, moving slowly, cautiously. Was he planning to make a kill? If he did, Lauren intended to join in, stealth be damned. She loved killing people but was always afraid of the Volturi. Edward, however, could protect her.

She watched as he climbed a small tree and settled back against the trunk, his familiarity testifying to his having done this many times before. What the fuck was he doing? He was watching through a window. Lauren crept a little closer, casting an anxious glance at the horizon. They were no more than an hour away from dawn. She hoped she'd have time to get home but she supposed she could bury herself in the sand if she had to.

A man came out of the front door. Edward crouched, well-hidden by shadow. It was that guy from the club, the giant. "I left it in my car, Bella," he called back to the house. Bella! Was this the home of the mysterious woman who shared the nickname Edward had given her?

The giant opened the door of a pretty sweet antique Corvette and fumbled around inside. He pulled out a shopping bag and shut the car door, then froze as the breeze shifted. He sniffed the air and his head whipped around. His eyes landed on the clump of trees where Lauren was hiding. _Oh, shit_. She remained absolutely still, hoping he wouldn't see her. She let out a sigh of relief as his gaze moved onward. Edward had taken advantage of his attention to her hiding spot to slip out of the tree and run back toward his car. He passed the spot where Lauren hid, and didn't even notice her. He jumped in the car and waited until the giant went back into the house before starting the engine and peeling away.

Lauren tiptoed up to the house he'd been watching, her curiosity too intense to ignore. She took Edward's spot in the tree and waited. She was looking into a kitchen. Lauren sniffed. Whoever lived here was human. A woman walked pat the window and Lauren gasped. She looked like- _No_, it couldn't be ...

The woman walked back into view and stopped right in front of the window. Lauren heard water running and guessed that the woman- Bella- must be washing something in the sink. Lauren stared at her in shock. The woman could have been her twin. The giant came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her torso, leaning in to kiss the crook of her neck. The woman sighed. She heard the man say, "I love you, Bella."

Lauren leaned closer and the limb on which she was balance snapped, sending her plummeting to the ground. She rolled to her feet when she hit and ran like hell, knowing that the giant had to have heard it and would come to investigate. She could only hope that he wouldn't remember her scent from the one meeting they'd had in the club.

She ran for home, her tingling skin telling her that dawn was coming soon. If she didn't get into shelter soon, she was toast. She was only a fledgling. When the sun broke over the horizon, she'd drop like a stone, unconscious and helpless and would burn up like tissue paper.

She burst into her apartment and shut the door as if the sun were chasing her down the hall. She went to her bedroom, stripping of her ruined shoes. Edward had made her ruin a thousand dollar of heels. A chill went through her when she realized that there was now no one to buy her a replacement pair.

She lay on her bed and planned. She had to find out more about this Bella woman and what her connection to Edward might be.

* * *

><p>Around seven, Bella heard a knock on her door. Emmett had left earlier saying he hated to go but had "some things to take care of" but would be back in an hour or so. He must have finished early, whatever he was doing. (Bella refused to speculate.) "Come in," she called, and headed for the front door, wiping her hands on a dish towel. How odd for Emmett to come in the front-<p>

She froze in her tracks. A woman stood in her living room, looking around with avid curiosity. Bella couldn't speak for a moment as she stared at her. It was like looking into a mirror at an alternate universe version of herself. The woman was wearing a tight black mini-dress and ridiculously high heels. Seeing her standing there was like the intro to a _Twilight Zone_ episode. Evil Bella would lock her down in the basement and attempt to take over her life until Emmett, the hero, figured out that this woman was an imposter.

"Hello," the real Bella said. "I don't believe we've met."

The woman stuck out her hand and gave her a broad smile which didn't reach her eyes. "I'm Lauren, Edward's girlfriend."

Bella backed up a step. "Please don't be offended, but I don't shake hands."

The woman's gaze narrowed a bit, but her smile stayed in place. "I've heard _so_ much about you," Lauren said, "I wanted to meet you so I could put a face to the name. I had to come here to see you because you don't get out much, do you?"

The woman's smile was firmly in place, but Bella had the sense that she'd just been insulted. "No, I'll admit to being a homebody."

"I _love_ your dress," Lauren said. Bella looked down at the loose green gingham. "I have one _just _like it_._"

"Oh?" Bella said faintly.

"Yes, Edward gave it to me." Lauren's eyes glittered and her smile suddenly reminded Bella of a shark.

"Can you show me around? I'd _love_ to see the rest of your house. It's so ... cute." She went over to the wall where Bella had hanged pictures of her family. "Ooh, country wallpaper with duckies wearing blue bows. How _quaint_!" Lauren exclaimed.

"I can't take credit for the wallpaper," Bella said, a little frosty. "It was here when I bought the place and I just haven't changed it."

Bella led Lauren around the house, starting with the kitchen. Lauren's grin seemed to widen with each room. She giggled at the freestanding claw-foot tub in the bathroom, and picked up the bottle of body wash. She read the label and set it back down. "Ooh, this is the same kind I use. What a coincidence!" Bella gritted her teeth.

"Is this your bedroom?" Lauren asked, opening the door to the only room that Bella hadn't shown her. The one room Bella had decided to delete from the tour. "Oh, I love the four-poster bed!" Lauren exclaimed, and then, oddly, began sniffing the air like a bloodhound. Okay, this was getting too weird.

Bella edged toward the door. "I was, um, going to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?"

"Sure!" Lauren said and Bella was grateful the woman followed her from the room. Beautiful darted across their path. "Is that your cat?" Lauren asked.

Bella had the urge to say, _No, it's my German Shepard_, but quashed it. "Yes, his name is Beautiful." And, of course, Lauren found that hysterically funny. "God, what happened to him?"

"He was a stray and some young boys thought it would be funny to set him on fire. That's why his fur is missing in places."

Lauren bent down to pet him. Beautiful hissed and swiped at her hand. Lauren gasped, her hand adorned with four perfect scratches, some of which oozed blood. He shot past them to hide under the bed. "Oh, God, I'm sorry! He doesn't like strangers," Bella said, thinking about how Beautiful had adored Edward and Emmett on first sight. "Let me put some antiseptic on that for you."

"No, I'll be fine," Lauren said, her smile tight. She licked the scratches. "Let's go have that cup of tea so we can have a nice _chat_."

Oh, that sounded just lovely, Bella thought sourly. She led Lauren to the kitchen and put a pot of water on to boil. Lauren seated herself at the table, drumming her fingers. "How long have you known Edward?" she asked abruptly.

"About a month," Bella said.

"Did you ever date?"

"We went out once, but nothing ever came of it," Bella said carefully. "We decided we're better off as friends, and I'm with Emmett now."

"Yeah, I could smell him in your bedroom," Lauren giggled. "He must spend a _lot_ of time with you there."

Bella checked the teapot unnecessarily. Her face was burning. She was _not_ going to discuss her sex life with this woman.

Bella heard a knock at the back door and opened it, glad to find Emmett standing there. His eyes immediately darted to the woman seated at the table. He smiled, but Bella could tell he was as unhappy with her presence as Bella was.

"Hello, Lauren," he said, after kissing Bella on the cheek in greeting.

"Why, _hello_ Emmett," Lauren drawled. "Nice to see you again."

"Same here," Emmett lied. "Is, um ... Is Edward with you?"

"No, I just dropped by to meet the famous Bella," Lauren said breezily. "You're a lucky guy, Emmett, she's just..." Lauren paused and inhaled deeply, "... _delicious_."

She stood and brushed off the back of her short skirt as if she'd sat on a log in the woods instead of a chair in Bella's immaculate kitchen. "I have to be off. Edward will be waiting for me."

"Thank you for visiting," Bella said. _Don't let the door hit you in the ass._

Lauren smirked. She said her goodbyes to Emmett and then strolled out the door.

"What was _that_ all about?" Bella wondered aloud after Emmett shut the door.

* * *

><p>Lauren entered O Negative and immediately scanned her surroundings. She caught Edward's scent and followed it to a booth where he sat, a blonde woman perched atop him, her skirt up around her waist. Edward was drinking from her, his hands on her hips, guiding her as he fucked and fed.<p>

Lauren grabbed the bitch by her arm and threw her across the room. "Edward!" Lauren growled.

He wiped his mouth. "Yes?"

"Who is _she_?"

Edward shrugged, indicating he neither knew or cared. The blond picked herself up off the floor and stumbled over to the sofa, clasping a hand to her bleeding neck. Another vampire eagerly latched on, pushing her back against the upholstery.

"I told you, we're done, Lauren," Edward said.

Lauren sat down beside him. "You don't mean that, baby. We're so good together. I love you." She quickly straddled his hips, pushing aside her thong and sinking down on him. Edward finished quickly, which Lauren preferred to believe was a testament to her skill and not how worked up the blond had gotten him. He closed his pants and pushed her aside so he could exit the booth.

"Where are you going?" Lauren asked.

He didn't bother to answer her, heading toward the door. Lauren caught his arm and stopped him. "Edward, this is getting ridiculous. Why are you acting this way? Come on, baby. Let's go back to my place and we can-"

Edward glared at her. "Lauren, you seem to be having trouble understanding me. We're _done_. I don't want to see you any more."

"What? Then what was that just a few minutes ago?"

Edward smirked. "What guy will turn down a free fuck?"

Lauren wanted to slap him, but she tried another tactic, giving him a sweet, shy look up through her lashes. "Edward? Please?"

For a moment, she was sure he wavered and she felt a flash of triumph. He _did_ love her, even if he was being stubborn about it. That was it, she was sure. He was afraid of the intensity of his feelings and lashing out at her. She'd read an article in _Cosmo_ on this very topic while getting her nails done last night.

"I mean it, Lauren. We're done. Stop following me. Stop calling me. Leave me alone." He started out the door and Lauren used her trump card.

"I saw Bella tonight."

He froze. "What?"

"You heard me." She smirked and sidled up to his still form, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Imagine my surprise that there was a woman actually named 'Bella' who looked just like me. Well, except for the fact that she has no fashion sense."

Edward said nothing, staring at her.

"I went to her house to see if you'd been there."

Edward still hadn't moved. Lauren smiled and leaned in to press her lips to his. In heels, she was the same height as he.

Edward suddenly lunged, pinning her against the wall. Lauren gasped with excitement until she saw the look in his eyes. He was furious. Murderously angry. "You. Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her." His hand wrapped around her throat and he squeezed, punctuating every word. "Understand?"

Lauren nodded.

He released her.

Lauren sagged away from the wall. She watched Edward walk away and tears sprung into her eyes. She dashed them away angrily. She wouldn't let him make her cry. Anger was a better emotion. She didn't direct her anger at poor Edward, who was just confused. It was that Bella cunt who was the cause of all this.

* * *

><p>Emmett stayed that day, and the next, and the next after that. Bella couldn't point out exactly when she had forgiven him, whether it was all at once or a gradual process of coming to grips with why he had done what he had. And despite everything, she still loved him. It would take a while to rebuild her trust in him but they had a start, at least.<p>

She felt a little bit guilty. She hadn't left the house since Tuesday. She called in to the restaurant and the shelter, claiming she was sick with the flu and both places assured her that everything was running smoothly and to take the time she needed to recover. STill, she had never spent this long in her life on just herself and it felt too indulgent.

Friday morning, she woke up, groggy and grumpy. She shuffled her way to the kitchen and got down a can of food for the cat before putting the teapot on to boil. She looked down at the empty floor where Beautiful should be, eagerly awaiting his meal. Even the sound of the can opener didn't bring him running.

She set the bowl down on the floor and went looking for Beautiful, methodically searching every nook and cranny, her anxiety increasing with every empty room.

"Emmett?" she said, after checking under the bed.

He was sleeping. It had taken her a while to get used to the total stillness of vampire sleep. He truly looked dead lying there. She said his name again and his eyes snapped open. "Bella?"

"Oh, Emmett, I can't find Beautiful," she said, bursting into tears. "I searched the entire house and he's not here. Do you think he got out of the door without us noticing?"

"Don't worry, Bella," he said. "At dusk, I'll go out and find him. I can track his scent. If he did get out, he's probably wandering the neighborhood, checking out the lady cats. I'll find him, I promise." He wiped away her tears and held her until she calmed.

Replaying their conversation in her mind, Bella wrinkled her nose. "Seems sort of gross that your sense of smell is so sensitive. I'll have to make sure I don't skip a shower."

"You smell divine," Emmett said. "If you skip a shower, you just smell _more_ divine."

She kissed his forehead. "Liar. Go back to sleep."

"Cuddle with me," he implored and how could a girl resist that sort of request from a gorgeous man? She crawled into the bed, curling up against his body which was still warm from being under the covers all night with her.

They woke as the sun was setting. Emmett tugged on his shoes, kissed Bella and promised to be back soon with the cat.

If Emmett hadn't decided he'd detour and get a quick meal, perhaps none of the unfortunate events to follow would have transpired. It was a thought which would haunt him for the rest of his existence.

Bella was in the kitchen when the door opened. She went into the living room, thinking Emmett must have forgotten something. It wasn't Emmett. It was Edward and he looked like hell. His eyes were sunken with deep purple shadows under them. His face was white and drawn and the sexy disarray of his hair had crossed over into truly unkempt.

"Edward! Are you all right? Sit down," Bella cried, taking his arm and leading him to the sofa.

"Bella," he said softly. "Bella."

"Yes, Edward, I'm here," she soothed.

With a shuddering sob, he swept her into his arms and wept into her shoulder. Bella had never seen Edward cry, didn't imagine Edward _could_ cry. It simply didn't fit his devil-may-care persona.

She was very uncomfortable at being held and the dampness of his tears was making her cringe,all of her phobias reasserting themselves. She pushed Edward away as gently as possible. "Please, Edward, what's wrong?"

"I love you," he said.

Bella didn't know what to say.

He grabbed her arms. "Did you hear me? I love you." His eyes were burning into hers with frightening intensity.

"I heard you, Edward. Please, let go. You're hurting me."

He looked down at his hands. "Shit! I'm sorry. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, just a bit bruised." Bella rubbed her arms to restore circulation.

"I never want to hurt you, Bella," Edward said. He reached up and tenderly traced the back of his fingers over her cheek. Bella endured it out of a sense of kindness. "I had to tell you that I love you. I've never said it to anyone, not in thousands of years."

Did he say _thousands _of years? It couldn't be possible. Edward had to have lost his grip on reality. "It's true," he said as if he could hear her thoughts, even though Emmett had said he couldn't. "I just skimmed along the surface, focusing on the pleasures of this world, never getting attached, never caring. But now ..." Pinkish tears formed in his eyes and slowly fell down his cheeks. "_A mighty pain to love it is/And 'tis a pain that pain to miss/But of all pains, the greatest pain/It is to love, but love in vain."_

"Edward, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to cause you pain."

"I know that," he said. "You're sweet and kind and good. All the things I am not. How could I not love you?" He stood and walked over to the window, staring out into the darkness. With his back to her, he said, "You love Emmett, don't you?"

"I do."

He braced his hands on the window sill, his head hanging. "That's fitting. Emmett is almost as good and kind as you are. He'll treat you well." He turned back to face her and his eyes once again held that scary intensity. "Bella, I know now that I can never have you. The truth is, I don't deserve to touch something as clean and decent as you are. But I _have_ to taste you. Just once."

_Taste_ her? What the hell?

Edward stalked closer, his voice low and soothing. "I won't hurt you. Just a little sip. A taste. The closest I will ever come to heaven."

Her heart was pounding. Bella cringed away as Edward came to lean over her, pinning her in place by bracing his arms on either side of her. "Just a taste," he whispered. He lowered her head and nuzzled at her ear. "Just a taste."

"Edward, I don't think-"

"Hush," he said softly, pushing her hair aside. "Nothing to be frightened of. Sorry I can't put the whammy on you, but you'll feel pleasure anyway. Didn't Emmett tell you that our saliva has a euphoric effect when introduced into the blood stream? No? There are people who become addicted to it, you know." His lips grazed along her neck and Bella shuddered, not from pleasure though it made him give a soft, breathy moan.

"Edward don't-" Bella's words were cut off by a sharp pain in her throat, pain that made her gasp and push at his shoulders, but it was like trying to push a house. She moaned when she felt the rush he'd been describing. The hardest drug she'd ever used was caffeine. Nothing could have prepared her for this feeling, this pleasure that made every nerve ending buzz and sing. Pleasure. She was drowning in pleasure, growing lethargic, growing weaker.

"Edward!" she rasped out his name as she fell over, lying down on the sofa, too weak to hoist herself upright. He followed her down, laying atop her as he drank. The room was spinning, growing dark.

And then everything went black.


	9. Improvise

Chapter 9

Improvise

Emmett returned to Bella's house an hour later, bearing a cardboard box under one arm. Inside the box were the remains of Bella's beloved cat.

Emmett didn't know how he was going to tell her. It would be easier to lie, to say Beautiful must have been hit by a car, but hadn't he promised her the truth? _I'm sorry, Bella, but your cat was apparently tortured to death by Edward's new girlfriend._

He had found the small, mangled body in Bella's mailbox at the end of the driveway, tied with a cheerful red bow. Lauren's scent was everywhere, as if she'd wanted to make sure that Emmett would know she had done this. So, it was a message, but what was the crazy bitch trying to convey? Or did she just want to do something that would cause Bella pain? Ultimately, whatever the reason, it didn't matter. She would pay for hurting Bella.

He went up the stairs to the back door balcony and hid the box behind Bella's wagon. He tapped on the door and waited. And waited. He frowned. Knocked louder.

A few moments later, he heard Bella coming to answer the door but something was seriously off. She was stumbling, crashing into everything in her meandering path. The bolt slid back and Bella stood there, swaying, a big, goofy grin on her face. "Emmett!" she said. She stepped forward to embrace him but tripped and fell into Emmett's arms.

"Jeeze, Bella, are you _drunk_?" Emmett asked. And then he caught the scent that lingered on her. _Edward_.

"I _feel_ drunk, that is, if this is what being drunk feels like," Bella said, illogically. "I just woke up."

"Bella, what happened?" Emmett asked slowly. He scooped Bella up in his arms, making her squeal at the way the room spun, and carried her into the living room. He gently deposited her on the sofa and she flopped back with a sigh. There were a few droplets of blood staining the neckline of her dress.

"Edward came over," she said. "He was so sad and crying and I felt so bad for him. I think- I think I must have fainted." Her brow creased as she tried to remember.

Emmett closed his eyes. "Did he hurt you, Bella?"

"No, he was right. It didn't hurt after the first few seconds."

"He bit you?" Emmett had known from the moment he caught the scent where this was going but he still wanted it to not be true.

"I tried to tell him not to," Bella said. She saw the look on his face and became alarmed. "Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?"

"No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you, not at all." Emmett said, patting her hands. "Be right back." He stood and went into the kitchen where he leaned against door of the refrigerator for a moment, pain carving through him.

Drinking from another vampire's lover was the ultimate in betrayal in the vampire world. Blood exchanges among lovers were the height of intimacy (though Emmett didn't know this, Edward had never drank from Lauren, nor allowed her to bite him). A vampire would forgive their mate cheating more easily than they could forgive a blood exchange. Bella couldn't know this, of course, but Edward certainly did.

He pulled open the refrigerator and poured Bella a large glass of homemade apple juice. He brought it into the living room where Bella was dozing on the sofa. "Bella? Sweetheart, I need to you to sit up and drink this. All of it, okay?"

Bella sat up clumsily and took the glass of juice, sloshing some onto the bodice of her dress. "Emmett, you look upset. Is there something wrong with me?"

Emmett hesitated. "Edward took too much from you, but you'll be fine. Right as rain by tomorrow. You just need to drink lots of fluids and get some rest."

"Will I be a vampire now?" Bella asked in a small voice.

"Not unless you drank his blood in return."

"Did you find Beautiful?"

Emmett inwardly cringed. "Yeah, I did, honey. Can we talk about it in the morning?"

Bella seemed satisfied with that answer. She finished the glass of juice and gave a little burp. Despite everything, it made Emmett smile. It was such a cute little sound. Widening her eyes, Bella clapped a dainty hand over her mouth. "Oh, excuse me!"

Emmett set the glass on the coffee table and scooped her up. He took her into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. She had already dozed off again. He looked down at her for a moment at the cast on her hand and her pale, pale skin. She'd been through far too much in these past few days. He kissed her forehead before turning and striding to the living room to collect his keys.

He paused to write a note, folded it and wrote her name on the outside and propped it up against her tea pot. If he came back, she wouldn't need it. If he didn't, perhaps it would give her some comfort.

He drove to his and Edward's apartment, a place which no longer seemed like home, and parked in the garage below. He put his car key up in the visor. Despite everything, despite the pain and betrayal, he still wanted Edward to have his car if this ended the way Emmett suspected it would.

He took the elevator upstairs. He could hear piano music as he emerged, _Tristesse_ by Chopin, but it wasn't Edward playing. He hadn't replaced the piano he'd destroyed. Emmett slowly opened the door.

The living room was dark, pitch black, the shades pulled down over the glass walls so not even the ambient light of the moon seeped in. Emmett's vampire eyes didn't need much light to see. Edward sat on the sofa, smoking, an overflowing ashtray on the cushion beside him. "Took you long enough," Edward said.

"How could you, Edward?"

Edward didn't answer.

"You know that drinking from her is considered worse than if you'd fucked her."

"I've been a vampire longer than you have, Emmett. I don't need you to lecture me on vampire culture and its taboos."

"You took far too much. She could barely stay up on her feet. And then you left her alone."

Edward drew on his cigarette and the cherry threw an orange light over his features before fading. "I couldn't stop."

"Damn you," Emmett said softly. "You could have killed her."

"I wasn't _that_ out of control. She'll be fine." Edward's voice was dismissive.

All of these years, he had made excuses for Edward's behavior, ignored his selfishness, his self-centered, casual cruelty toward others. Emmett was shaking with rage. "How could you do this, Edward? You had to know how it would make me feel. I'm your friend, Edward, your _only_ friend. I stood by you when no one else would, and _stayed_ your loyal friend through good times and bad. All this time ..."

Edward snorted. "Then you shouldn't be surprised."

Emmett stared at him.

Edward gave a mirthless bark of laughter. "You fool. You've watched me treat other people this way for centuries. Now you're _surprised_ that I'm treating you in the same way? What, did you think you were special?"

"I suppose I did," Emmett said quietly.

"You simply never had anything I wanted."

Emmett closed his eyes. The words were like a blow. Anger warred with grief, both emotions building in him until he felt like he might explode.

"What you did to Bella was equivalent to rape, Edward."

A flash of anger crossed Edward's face, the first hint of emotion he'd shown since Emmett had arrived. "Bullshit! I did _not_ rape her!"

"You penetrated her body without her permission and took something from her against her will. What else would you call it?"

"Stop with the Drama Queen shit, Emmett. I drank from her, end of story. Something that we vampires do to humans quite frequently. Did your last meal give his or her full, informed consent?"

"That's different."

Edward snorted. "Of course it is."

"You didn't do it for a meal, from a stranger who won't remember, or a bite-junkie in a club. You did it for your own pleasure. She knew what was going on and tried to get you to stop, and she remembers what you did to her even if she isn't aware of the full implications." Emmett's voice lowered. "You did it to hurt me."

"Not everything is about _you_, Emmett," Edward said, but he wouldn't meet Emmett's gaze. He put out one cigarette and immediately lit another.

"I thought I was your friend. You never cared for me at all, did you?"

"As much as I could," Edward replied. "Which, admittedly, isn't much."

"What about Bella? I thought you cared for her, so why would you do this? Once she is able to think about this clearly, she's not going to be happy about what you did. Christ, I'd have never dreamed I would have to protect her from you."

"Share her with me," Edward said suddenly. "I know I can make her love me, too. She's part-way there already. If we both agree to this, we can talk her into it."

They had shared women before, but Bella was different. Not only did Emmett know that she would never consent to a polyamorous arrangement, he knew he could never share her. The thought of her being touched by Edward was like a hot knife blade in his chest.

"No." Emmett said it flatly, no room for compromise, no room for discussion.

Edward's eyes glinted. "If you weren't in the picture, I could make her mine."

"Possibly. But you'd never make her happy."

Edward flinched.

"Besides, I doubt she'll forgive you for this, Edward."

"She might if you don't poison the well by being all, _Oh, Bella, it's such a violation_ and _Oh_, _Bella, he betrayed our trust._" Edward's voice was high and mocking.

"Why are you being so cruel?"

Edward smirked. "To make it easier on you."

Emmett nodded.

Edward stabbed out his cigarette. "Do what you came here to do."

Emmett lunged, crashing into Edward at full speed, taking the sofa over with them. Edward drew up his feet and kicked Emmett in the stomach, sending him flying across the room and smashing through the all into Edward's bedroom. He rolled to his feet and charged Edward again, who was waiting for him in a defensive crouch. Edward's foot caught his chest, sending him crashing into the glass shelves where the stereo was perched. It hit him in the head, painfully, as it fell, cracking to pieces when it landed and silencing Chopin.

Emmett rebounded and tackled Edward, slamming him down, and through, the coffee table. Fists, nails, teeth and feet, all moving faster than the human eye could see. Emmett thought they probably looked like one of those dust-cloud brawls in cartoons, with only flashes of flailing limbs appeared from the maw.

Emmett was bigger, stronger, heavier, but Edward was faster and had untold years of fighting experience. Emmett was pretty sure he wasn't going to walk away from this, but he'd had no choice.

A heavy blow in the center of his chest sent him flying backwards. His back hit the glass wall and he felt it shatter behind him. He had time to think, _Oh fuck, this is going to hurt_ before a hand grabbed him and prevented him from falling twenty stories to the pavement below. Edward flung him across the room. Emmett landed on his back, skidding through the debris on the whipped through the apartment sending papers and tiny bits of debris whirling through the air. In a flash, Edward was sitting on his chest, his hands wrapped around Emmett's throat.

_This is it, _Emmett thought. He closed his eyes. _Bella, I love you_.

With a growl, Edward released him. He stood, walked through the gaping hole in wall which had once separated his bedroom from the living room and fished out the mysterious plain wooden box from his dresser. He tucked it under his arm and opened the front door, not bothering to close it and not looking back as he left.

Emmett painfully rose to his feet and surveyed the devastation. _I guess we won't be getting our deposit back_, he thought.

* * *

><p>The more she thought about it, the more Lauren was convinced that Bella Swan needed to die. Once she was out of the way, her strange spell over Edward would be broken and Lauren would be able to get him back in her arms where he belonged. She smiled to herself. She hoped that bitch had found the little "present" she'd left. She laughed every time she imagined the look on Bella's face.<p>

As luck would have it, Lauren found one of her old flings sitting at the bar in O Negative. Theirs had been a purely physical relationship and an amicable breakup when both of them decided the attraction had run its course. "Hey, Thomas!" she said.

"Tyler," he replied.

"Oh, yeah. _Tyler_. Gosh, sorry."

He waved it away. "No problem. Haven't seen you in a while, Lauren. Is this your new hang-out spot?"

"Well, one of them, anyway," Lauren said. They chatted for a bit about mutual friends, who was dating whom, who had joined the Queen's court and who was in trouble with the Volturi.

"I heard you were dating Edward Masen," Tyler said.

Lauren's teeth clenched. "Yeah."

"That guy's bad news, Laurie. He'll break your heart."

"He already has," Lauren admitted. "But I'll have him back soon. He can't stay away."

"I hate to leave but I've got to get going," Tyler said after a while. "I need to feed before I go to bed."

Lauren had an idea. Tyler was only two years old and his control was precarious. Perhaps he could take care of her problem. "You know, I found the most incredibly delicious blood the other day. There's this woman..."

* * *

><p>Bella still felt a bit out-of-sorts when she woke. Her head ached and she felt powerfully thirsty. She slowly shuffled through the house to the kitchen to make a pot of tea.<p>

"Oh, fuck, you _do_ smell delicious," a man said.

Bella screamed and jumped, whirling to face the intruder. She was getting heartily sick of people just appearing in her house and wished that the old can't-come-in-without-an-invitation myth were true.

"Who- who are you?" she stammered.

"No one important," he said, locking his eyes onto hers. "Stay still. I won't hurt you."

"Get the fuck away from her!" Emmett roared. Bella heard his voice, but didn't see him until he had streaked across the kitchen and grabbed the stranger by the throat. "Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my girlfriend's house?"

"Tyler Crowley," the man rasped through a constricted throat. "I'm sorry man. I had no idea she was claimed."

"How did you find Bella? Who sent you?" Emmet growled.

"Lauren. Lauren Mallory. She told me that there was this girl who had absolutely incredible blood and I had to try it for myself. Seriously, man, I meant no harm. I didn't know he was already someone's pet."

Emmett released him. "Get the fuck out of here and don't _ever_ consider returning. And tell Lauren if she sends any more 'friends' over here, I'll be coming for her myself."

"Yeah, man, sure," Tyler said quickly, nodding eagerly. "Whatever you say." He darted out the door and Emmett slammed it behind him.

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Yeah, he never touched me."

"How are you feeling?"

"Not well," Bella admitted.

"Sit," Emmett said. "I'll make you a pot of tea. You need to eat. How about I warm up some soup for you?"

That sounded wonderful. She watched Emmett take out one of the plastic containers of frozen homemade soup and empty it into a pan. Seeing it plop out of the container reminded her of cat food so she asked, "Emmett, did you find Beautiful?"

"Yes, Bella, I did." Emmett said quietly. He came over and crouched down in front of her. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but he's dead."

"What! No!"

"I'm so sorry," Emmett said, and took her into his arms. Bella stayed tucked against his chest for a few moments, absorbing comfort until her trembling had ceased, then tilted her head back up to look at him.

"What happened to him? Did he get hit by a car?"

Emmett wanted so badly to lie. He wanted to tell her that Beautiful had been struck and killed instantly, no pain. "Someone killed him, Bella."

Her brows drew together in confusion. "Why? Why would anyone want to kill my cat? What did they do? Poison? A trap?"

"No, honey. Someone captured him and ... They hurt him and then strangled him."

Bella burst into tears. "Why? I don't understand!"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." It was all he could say. He brought her a tissue and she accepted it, dabbing at her nose. The tea pot was starting to whistle and Emmett released Bella to go make her a cup of tea, grateful that he had at least something small he could do for her.

"Are you sure?" Bella demanded, after a moment of silence in which she digested the news. "Are you _sure_ it's Beautiful?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Can- Can I see him?"

Emmett sighed. "I ... wouldn't recommend it. It's probably better for you to remember him as he was."

Bella laid her head on her arms and sobbed. Emmett pulled a chair close to her side and sat there, rubbing her back until she quieted. Once she had calmed a bit, he got up to get her a bowl of the hot soup.

She wiped away her tears. "Do you know who did it? Could you, um, smell them?"

"Yes. It was Lauren, Edward's girlfriend."

Bella's mind raced. She wanted to call the police, but what was she going to say, _My vampire boyfriend knows it was her because he can smell her and she sent another vampire to my house to eat me._ She wanted to confront the woman, but Lauren apparently had a screw or two loose and Bella herself would probably end up getting hurt. She wanted so badly to do _something_ to punish her for what she'd done, but she was powerless. And becoming very afraid.

* * *

><p>Lauren looked for Tyler for the next two nights. He didn't show up at any of the popular hot spots, nor had he been home, according to his room mate. It wasn't until she happened to spot him from her car, walking down the sidewalk, that she finally found out whether or not he had drained that Bella bitch.<p>

Hearing his story, Lauren tried not to let herself become frustrated. She had considered the idea that he might have been killed by that giant when she couldn't find him, so she was prepared for Tyler's failure. Not happy about it, sure, because it would have made her life a lot simpler, but she supposed if you wanted something done properly, you had to go to a professional.

One of the few useful pieces of advice her mother had ever given her was to make as many friends as possible and to avoid making enemies because you never knew when the talents of one of those people would come in handy. Lauren made a couple of phone calls and the next night, waited at the arranged meeting place.

It was the city park. Lauren sat on a swing and looked around at the empty playground. She herself had played here as a kid. Sad to say, really. She'd been born here in this shithole, had died in this shithole, and now she lived as a vampire in the very same shithole.

Back when she was a kid, she'd been fat and unpopular, poor and very lonely. She'd steeped in her own resentment, hating her mother for the shabby, dirty house in which they lived and or not being able to afford the trendy clothes that the other girls wore, and an acidic hatred and envy of those girls. More than anything, she wanted to be rich and pretty and popular. She wanted people to be jealous of _her_ for a change.

Most of the weight had come off when she hit her teenage years. She'd never be a pixie, but her figure now was womanly rather than dumpy. At thirteen, she'd discovered that boys would buy her things if she put out, and even _more_ things if she strung them along for a little while before giving it up. The other girls called her a slut, but now it was _they_ who were envious when the boys they were dating dropped them in favor of Lauren.

As she grew older and more experienced, Lauren started moving up the social ladder, catching guys who were wealthier. As a result, she'd never had to hold down a job because there was always some guy willing to support her and pay her bills for a while. And the bills were pretty big. A girl had to play the part, after all, and looking good cost money.

About five years ago, she'd started dating a rather strange guy named Mike. She hadn't figured out that he was a vampire until she went over to his place one evening and found him sucking the blood out of another girl. Lauren had weighed her options and decided to forego a hissy-fit in exchange for asking to be changed herself. They'd had to apply for permission- Mike wasn't brave enough to defy the Volturi- but it was granted after a perfunctory investigation. (Perfunctory, yes, but Lauren was worried the entire time that they would discover that she'd killed her mother and would reject her application. Either her "perfect crime" had stayed perfect or the Volturi didn't care.)

She'd seen the movies. Vampires were rich and suave. Well, suave she might be, but she was still running into problems with cash flow. Being a vampire didn't automatically make a person rich. It took lifetimes to build up the fortunes some of these guys had, and frankly, Lauren had never saved a penny and had no idea how to invest.

If she could just get Edward back, all her problems would be over. Okay, he was a little on the crazy side, but Lauren figured she could manage him.

"Lauren Mallory?"

Lauren looked around. A tiny Asian woman stood there, incredibly lovely and fragile-looking, like a porcelain doll. Not at all like she'd envisioned a "hitman" (or was that "hitwoman"?) would look like.

"Are you Irina?" Lauren asked.

The conversation was very short: Bella Swan was to die within the next three days and Lauren would pay Irina $50,000. She was going to have to sell her jewelry to pay for it, something Lauren deeply regretted, because you never got full value when pawning something, but it was the only way she could come up with the funds. And anyway, once Bella was gone, he'd buy Lauren more jewels.

She wished she could kill Bella herself. Nothing would give her more pleasure than draining that bitch dry, but she wanted to have an alibi. She intended to spend the next three nights being very visible in the clubs, trying to track down Edward. No one had seen him in the last few days and Lauren was starting to get a little worried.

It was such a feeling of relief to finally have this situation resolved. Within three days, Bella would be dead and Edward would be free. Sure, he might grieve for a little while, but he'd get over it and Lauren would be there, waiting. After all, they were immortal. They had nothing _but_ time.

* * *

><p>Bella woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Emmett was at her side immediately, pulling her into an embrace. He'd been reading, propped up in the bed beside her while she slept. "Shh, honey. You're safe. Everything is okay." He repeated variations on this theme until her heartbeat had slowed to a normal pace. "Nightmare, honey?"<p>

She nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Bella hesitated, then shook her head.

Emmett laid her back down and crawled into the bed beside her, folding her tiny body against the massive strength of his. "Bella, I think we should talk about this. You're having nightmares every time you fall asleep, and I think I know what you're dreaming about."

Bella didn't answer. She hid her face in his chest.

"Sweetheart, have you ever thought ... well ... thought about talking this over with someone?"

"A therapist?"

"Yes, just someone who can help-"

"I am NOT going to see a therapist," Bella hissed. "I had enough of that bullshit when I was a teenager."

"Bella, your mom took you to people she thought could change you. I'm talking about seeing someone who wants to help make you happy with who you are."

Bella gave an unladylike snort. "Yeah, that's what they all say, but pretty soon it's _Well, Bella, maybe you could change this_ or _Bella, let's work on getting you acclimated to this thing you hate._"

"Would you believe me if I told you I knew someone who wasn't like that?"

Bella looked up at his face and then ducked back into her hiding place. How far they had come that his arms were now where she went to hide and not something she felt the need to hide _from_.

"I believe that _you_ believe it," Bella said, her voice muffled. "Were you ever in therapy?"

"No, but Edward was."

"Wow, that's a ringing endorsement if I ever heard one."

Emmett laughed. "Okay, you got me there. But I really think Dr. Carlisle could help you. Do you think you'd talk to him if I set it up?"

"I don't want to go into some shrink's gloomy office and spill my guts for the thousandth time. I don't want any zombie pills. I don't want any 'assignments'."

Emmett thought for a moment. "What about talking to him over the phone? Could you do that? Bella, honey, you were violently attacked, first by some rapist pieces of shit, saw your boyfriend turn into a mythical creature, then were attacked again by a man you thought of as a friend and your cat killed by his crazy girlfriend. That's enough to make most people go nuts, and here you are, handling it like a trooper. I'm so proud of you. But I think you'd feel better if you could get some of your emotions off your chest. You know you keep things bottled up and pushing things aside is not the best way to deal with problems."

"I know, Emmett." She looked down and twisted a bit of blanket back and forth. "I've had a lot to deal with in the last couple of weeks and I'm still trying to process it all. I'm not suppressing my feelings. I'm still sorting out _how _I feel about some of the things that have happened."

Emmett nodded. "Fair enough. But I still want you to think about my doctor friend, okay?"

"Okay, I'll think about it." Bella said. She leaned in to kiss Emmett, and as happened frequently, couldn't stop with just one. He rolled over on top of her, kissing his way down her body. Bella groaned as his hands slid slowly up her thighs under her nightgown. His thumbs slid under her panties at the hips and he tugged them down. Emmett stared at the treasure he had unveiled. He knew Bella probably wouldn't be comfortable with oral sex yet but he couldn't resist planting a soft kiss on her labia. Bella jolted upright to a semi-sitting position and Emmett used the opportunity to strip off her nightgown. Her hands went to the hem of his t-shirt and whipped it over his head, smoothing her hands over his pecs. He pulled off his jeans and underwear, settling over her, his cool flesh yearning to touch her soft, warm skin. He bent and sucked a nipple into his mouth while his hands re-explored her body. Bella's hands slid down to his back and her nails dug into his flesh, urging him on.

Emmett let her go for a moment and sat up to retrieve his pants, fishing a condom out of his pocket. Bella put her hand over his. "You don't need that," she said. His eyes blazed with excitement and he grinned like a Cheshire Cat.

He would never be able to describe the sensation of sliding into her with nothing between them. He froze, trying to commit the feeling to memory and realized that this was what perfect bliss felt like. He rolled over onto his back, putting Bella on top and groaned when the position brought him even deeper within her.

Bella froze. "Emmett, I don't know what to do," she confessed, looking embarrassed.

"Like this," he said softly. He used his hands to guide her hips until she caught the rhythm. "Do whatever feels good, sweetheart, and I guarantee it will feel good for me, too."

She experimented a little with different types of movements, finding one which made her eyes fly open in ecstasy. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen, watching her come apart on top of him. The tremors were still quaking in her body when she whispered, "Emmett, I want you to bite me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I want to know what it's like when you can do the mind-meld thing."

He looked down into her face, her big, soft eyes so sweet and trusting. After what Edward had done to her, she ought to be very reluctant to be bitten again, but she was putting her trust, her very life, into his hands. He felt honored beyond words.

He captured her mind and when he bit, she let out a scream of rapture that triggered his own, and oh God, the taste of her ... the pleasure was indescribable, sending them both into release again and again, trapped in a cycle of bliss.

He tore his mouth away before he'd taken very much- less than a pint, he estimated- and lapped at the wound gently, sealing it. Bella gave him an exhausted, intensely satisfied smile and they curled into each other's arms for sleep.


	10. Insurrection

Chapter 10

Insurrection

Edward was fucked up again, but deriving any pleasure from the drugs was something long past. Now he just tried to keep himself as numb as possible.

The cigarette in his hand had burned down to ash, but he didn't notice. He was drinking a glass of heroin-laced blood because he could no longer bear to use live donors, not after Bella, and he stared endlessly into its depths. He didn't want to think. For periods of time, he was able to drift in a sea of nothingness and then something would jolt him back to hateful reality.

Someone sat down beside him. He cast them a glance and dropped his glass in shock. It shattered on the bar, making the bartender jump and yelp. He dimly heard the bartender say something about cleaning up the mess and saw the flash of a towel, but his eyes were on the person who occupied the seat beside his own.

Emmett.

The one person he expected he would never see again. He'd tried to make the break as final as possible.

"Hello, Edward," Emmett said, his face bland and impassive.

"Why are you here?" Edward asked.'

"I'm here because I need your help. Bella needs your help."

"My help? For what?"

Emmett began speaking and Edward could barely credit the words coming out of his mouth. "Lauren hired an assassin to kill Bella? _Lauren_?" Edward wouldn't have suspected Lauren had the balls to do something like that.

"Twice," Emmett said. "The second one is now a pile of ashes in Bella's driveway. Some little Japanese chick who thought she was tough shit with a sword. I showed her differently. Bella doesn't know about it and I'm not going to volunteer the information if I don't have to. She's scared and traumatized enough as it is."

"Where is Bella now?"

"She's with Esme Cullen."

"Christ, Emmett, why didn't you just dump her on the freeway to play in the traffic?"

"It was all I could think of on short notice. Besides, Jenks is there."

"Why can't you take her home?"

"Because she has no home. Someone torched her house last night."

* * *

><p>Bella was dreaming of pancakes.<p>

She was cooking them at the stove and putting them on a plate in front of Emmett who swore he wasn't eating them but they kept disappearing. Bella was really enjoying the dream, especially because she'd had nothing but nightmares every time she closed her eyes for more than a minute.

Emmett heard her laughing softly in her sleep and babbling something about a spatula, and he was relieved that she wasn't having bad dreams, for once. Maybe she would be able to sleep that night undisturbed. He decided he'd allow himself a few hours of rest, too. He'd been surviving on an hour or two every few days because he was afraid to leave Bella alone.

Last night, it had been the Japanese woman. Fortunately, Emmett had been taking the recyclables down to the curb when she appeared in the driveway and attacked. She was skilled, but he was better. Getting the sword away from her had been the work of a minute. (He'd decided to keep it. It was a really nice sword.)

Bella was in danger, serious danger and he needed help. He hated to admit it, but he needed Edward. Who better to guard Bella than one of the strongest vampires on the planet, one whom even the Volturi feared? But first, he had to find him. Edward's cell phone number had been disconnected and he hadn't returned to the apartment.

Emmett knew Edward's hideouts better than anyone so he intended to start searching them one by one tomorrow, but he needed someone to guard Bella while he did it. Therein lay his problem; he couldn't think of anyone he trusted enough and was strong enough to guard her. He dozed off, still pondering his problem.

The pancakes were burning. Bella tried to wave away the smoke but it kept getting thicker. She frowned in annoyance because it was ruining a perfectly good dream. Suddenly she realized that the smoke was real and sat up in bed. She drew in a breath to call out Emmett's name and got a lung full of thick, black smoke. Coughing, gagging, eyes watering, she called out to Emmett and shook him. She couldn't wake him!

"Emmett!" she screamed, panic starting to eat at the edges of her reason. What should she do? What should she do? "_EMMETT_!"

His eyes opened, registered the terror in Bella's face, and he rolled out of bed into a defensive crouch. Bella coughed again, pulling her nightgown up over her nose. Emmett turned and kicked at the bedroom wall, breaking through the drywall and wood lathe, creating a hole large enough for them. He grabbed Bella out of the bed, wrapping her in the comforter and jumped through the hole. Instantly, his skin began to tingle and he looked to the east. Dawn. _Oh, fuck._ Whomever had set this fire intended to kill both of them.

Thank whatever gods may be that he had fallen asleep with his clothes on. His car keys were in his pocket. He ran for the Stingray and put Bella down on her feet beside it. "Honey, listen close. I gotta speak fast. The dawn is coming and I have to hide, so I'm getting in the trunk of the car. I need you to drive to 227 North Baxter Street. When you get there, ask for Jenks. Tell him what's happened and he'll help you." He opened the trunk and pressed the keys into Bella's hand with a swift kiss. He crammed himself inside the trunk and pulled the lid down just as the sun broke over the horizon.

Bella opened the driver's door and got inside. "Emmett, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Bella." Emmett's voice was faint and muffled, filtering in through the back seat.

"Now might not be the greatest time to tell you I don't know how to drive a car."

* * *

><p>With Emmett shouting to be heard over the sound of the engine, Bella slowly navigated her way toward Baxter Street. Emmett's seat didn't go up far enough and Bella was having trouble reaching the pedals, pressing on them with the tips of her bare toes. Thank God it was an automatic or they'd never have gotten out of the driveway.<p>

She crept along the streets at barely more than a walking pace and the car wove all over the road like a drunken whale. Cars honked at her. People leaned out of their windows and screamed ugly things as they passed. She prayed that she wouldn't be pulled over. What if the cop wanted to look in the trunk? She had a horrible vision of herself leading the police on a low-speed chase while a cop trotted alongside, pounding on the window.

She finally managed to find the address but faced a terrible new obstacle: parallel parking. She tried to point the nose of the car into the parking spot but the back end stuck out into the road. She pulled back out, making a car coming up behind her swerve and blare the horn. She tried backing in. _Crunch!_ Oh shit! She'd hit the car behind her. It shook on its springs like an angry bovine. She hit the gas. _Crunch! _Oh, Christ, she'd hit it _again_.Bella laid her forehead on the steering wheel. She'd forgot to put it back in "D".

"It's okay, Bella. It's okay!" Emmett yelled from the trunk, but his voice sounded pained.

She put the car in "D" and tried to straighten it out. _Crunch!_ She'd hit the car in front of her, too. Its alarm started wailing like the car was in pain. "I'm sorry, Emmett! It's just the hood is so long ..."

A man came out of the building and stood on the sidewalk, watching as Bella banged repeatedly into the car in front, the car in back and the parking meter for good measure. She finally had _das boot_ wedged sufficiently into the parking spot. The man on the sidewalk gave her a slow clap. Bella gave him the finger. He laughed and came over to the driver's side door. Bella rolled down the window an inch. Her bent down, his face on her level and grinned at her. "Jason Jenks, miss. Attorney at law. You ... um ... seem to be in need of one."

"Emmett told me to find you," Bella said.

Jason Jenks never took his eyes off her as he hit a button on his key fob. The alarm on the car ahead of her silenced.

"I hit a _lawyer's_ car?" she said, throwing up her hands. "Someone is trying to kill me. My house burned down. And now I've hit a lawyer's car. A lawyer I flipped off. Perfect."

"Two lawyers, actually," Jenks said cheerfully. "My partner's car is the one behind you."

Bella laid her head on the steering wheel again. "I think I'll stay right here lest I step out and cause a nuclear meltdown or something."

Jenks laughed. "Really, it's no big deal. Emmett pays me enough to cover any incidental damage his girlfriend may cause. I assume you're Bella? The one with the restaurant?"

She nodded. "That's me."

"Come inside. I'll get you a cup of coffee. You look like you need it."

"What about Emmett?" Bella asked. "He's in the trunk."

"He'll be all right for a while. After we've had a little chat, I'll take you both to a safe place."

That's how Bella came to be ensconced in the home of Esme Cullen. Esme had been changed at thirty-five years old by her new husband around the time of the Civil War. He'd always taken care of her and kept her extremely sheltered. Inside her home, it was still, and always would be, 1861. When he was killed by a freak accident a few years ago, Esme was suddenly thrust into a world she didn't understand. She'd been lost until she found Jenks. Bella got a crash course in what a "dayman" was and why they were so important to vampires like Esme who had a tough time adapting to new technology.

She and Bella were of similar build, so Esme offered to loan her some clothing so Bella could shower and get the stench of smoke off her skin. Bella, red-faced, explained to both of them about her "quirks" and why she could never stand to wear someone else's clothes. Esme had sent Jenks out immediately with orders to buy Bella some new clothes which she obligingly washed while Bella sat on her sofa, still wearing her nightgown and wrapped in a comforter. The only two things in the world that she owned now.

The house was a complete loss. Jenks had checked it out while he was fetching Bella some clothing (and when Esme had asked him to get her "some" clothing, it turned out to be an entire wardrobe. Thankfully, Jenks had listened to her descriptions of what she liked, but it sure seemed strange for a man she'd just met to be buying her underwear.) Whomever had started the fire had done their job well and the house had burned down to the foundation, despite the efforts of the local fire department. It was nothing but a smoking pit of twisted black timbers when Jenks arrived. He had taken some pictures on his phone but Bella didn't want to see them.

Before lunch, Bella was wearing a new cotton flower-print dress and felt a little more like herself. Using the shower in the upstairs bathroom had caused her a bit of anxiety, but Bella had found some disinfectant cleaner below the sink and had vigorously scrubbed the tub and walls before getting in it.

Emmett's car had been driven to the property and Emmett had finally gotten out of the trunk when the car was safely inside the attached garage. He looked at the buckled bumper and fender but held a cheerful demeanor. "For someone who had never driven a car or had any instruction, you did pretty good, actually."

"Thanks," Bella muttered.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart," he said. They went into the room Esme referred to as her parlor and sat down on dainty chairs that looked like they belonged in a museum. "You're in danger, Bella."

"I know that," she replied softy, looking down at the hands clasped in her lap. "It's that crazy Lauren girl. I bet she's the one who burned my house."

Her house. It hit her suddenly that everything was gone. All of her parents' possessions. All of the furniture that had been handed down though generations of her family. All of their photos. Her greenhouse. Everything. Gone. Tears filled her eyes.

Emmett knelt before her and pulled her into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder and let herself cry a little. "I promise you, sweetheart. That woman will pay for what she's done."

Bella wiped at her cheeks. "That won't bring back all that I've lost."

"I need to ask you something," he said tersely. "Would you object to Edward being around to help protect you?"

"I'm not afraid of him, if that's what you mean." She would not tell Emmett that in some of her dreams, her attackers' faces had morphed into Edward's. "I don't think he'd ever do ... _that_ again."

"As much as I hate to say it,, Bella, he's the best person to protect you. He's powerful, and we need that right now. I can't do it alone. I'm afraid to rest, afraid to leave you to go feed. Look what happened this morning: I decided to get a couple hours of sleep and almost let you get incinerated."

"That wasn't your fault," Bella said firmly.

"Yeah, sure," Emmett said, but Bella knew he'd never agree with her.

"Now, it's my turn to ask you something, Emmett." She took a deep breath. "Would it be better for you right now if I was a vampire?"

He was silent for a long moment. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I wouldn't be as ... breakable. I could fight and protect myself."

"Bella, sweetheart, I would never want you to make a decision like this out of fear. After the Lauren problem is taken care of, we'll discuss it, if you still think you may want to go through the change. But right now, you wouldn't be much more help, combat-wise. You'd be a fledgling still trying to figure out how to adapt to you new senses and strength."

"All right," she said.

He kissed her. "I'm going out to find Edward. I'd like you to stay here with Esme and Jenks. The house is pretty secure and they have a lot of dogs roaming the grounds which would give warning if any vampire tried to approach."

Esme appeared in the doorway. "Bella, would you like some lunch?"

Bella smiled politely. "No, thank you, Esme."

Esme looked disappointed at not being able to try cooking lunch for her guest, but she smiled and said that the refrigerator was full of "human food" if Bella got hungry.

Emmett had another thing to add to his mental list. It was going to be hard feeding Bella outside of her super-sanitized kitchen.

* * *

><p>Esme, as it turned out, liked rap music and they spent the afternoon playing board games while Jay-Z's "Black Album" played in the background. When Emmett returned late that evening with Edward in tow, <em>99 Problems<em> was playing (Bella was becoming sort of fond of the song) and Esme was singing along. Edward followed behind Emmett, his eyes fastened to the carpet.

"Good evening, ladies," Emmett said. "Esme, is it possible that we could impose upon your hospitality and add another guest for the afternoon?"

"Certainly," Esme said. "The more the merrier, as they say. Edward Masen, isn't it?"

Edward's eyes flicked up to her. They looked dull and washed out over the dark purple bruises beneath. Edward's suit was badly rumpled. "Yes, ma'am," Edward replied. He looked even worse than the night he'd drank from her. Bella's sympathy went into overdrive and, as was her personality, she blamed herself for his condition.

"Well," Esme said brightly as if he'd turned on his normal charm and they'd bantered a bit. "I'll show you to your rooms."

"I need to make a call," Edward said suddenly. Esme showed him a telephone perched on one of her inlaid tables. Edward dialed a long string of numbers and spoke in rapid Italian to whomever was on the other end of the line. He ended the call after only a few minutes and came back over to them. "I'm sorry. It's just- Well, I had an idea, something that might help protect Bella. I'm hoping my friend can get it delivered by tomorrow."

They followed Esme up the stairs to three guest rooms, each decorated in Victorian antiques. Like many vampires, Esme preferred to be surrounded by things from her own lifetime. Emmett and Bella settled down for the night in the big canopy bed. Bella's stomach growled and Emmet frowned. "Bella, we've got to get some food in you. You haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours."

Bella was embarrassed. "Emmett, I can't ..." she trailed off, twisting the fabric of her dress between her fingers.

"If I helped you clean Esme's kitchen, do you think you could eat something?"

Bella was aghast. "I can't clean her kitchen, Emmett! That would be so rude!"

"Bella, we have to do _something._ You can't just go without food. You'll make yourself sick." Emmett suddenly had an idea. "What if I boiled you some eggs? They'd be nice and clean inside the shell."

Bella smiled. "That sounds great, Emmett."

He went downstairs and Bella decided to go down the hall to the bathroom. Bella put tissue down over the seat before using the toilet. She knew it was clean because she had cleaned it herself, but she still just couldn't stand to touch another person's bathroom, even though that person was a vampire and never actually used it.

On her way out, she ran into Edward who was restlessly prowling the halls. He stopped and Bella stopped, too. The tormented look on his face made her want to give him a hug, but that might only make the situation worse.

"Bella, I'm so sorry for what I did to you," he said, his eyes intent.

Bella nodded. "I forgive you, but the person I think you need to speak to is Emmett. He's more hurt by it than I am."

Edward ran a hand through his hair. "I- I don't think-"

Emmett appeared with a small bowl containing her boiled eggs. "Bella?"

"Thank you, Emmett," she said, going to him and kissing him on the cheek. She took the bowl and went into their bedroom, hopping up on the end of the bed. She cracked open an egg, discarding the shell in the bowl and her stomach growled with a vengeance at the first bite. "Wow, I didn't even notice how hungry I was," Bella said.

"What did Edward say to you?" Emmett asked.

"He apologized. Emmett, I think that you and he should talk. Holding on to your anger isn't a healthy way to deal with this."

"I know, Bella, but I-" Emmett cut off, and sat in the chair by the bed. "I just _can't_."

Bella cracked open another egg. "Well, I heard of this great therapist the other day, Dr. Cullen. Maybe you should call him."

Emmett laughed. "If you weren't eating right now, I'd tickle you until you screamed."

Bella finished her eggs and tiptoed down the hall to brush her teeth. She didn't see Edward; she thought he had probably returned to his room and breathed a sigh of relief. When she returned, Emmett was waiting for her, hiding behind the door. She looked around, confused and he pounced. Bella gave a shriek of laughter as he gently tossed her onto the bed and dove atop her.  
>"Mmm, Emmett, what are you doing?" she asked as he began slowly opening her dress buttons and kissing the exposed flesh.<p>

"Three guesses," Emmett murmured, pushing aside the cup of her bra. Bella arched and gasped as he took her nipple into his mouth.

"Emmett, we can't. We're guests in Esme's house."

"Sweetheart, you're in a vampire's house. It's expected. If we _didn't_ she would worry we'd been uncomfortable or something."

Bella giggled, and forgot what she was going to say as he unsnapped her bra.

* * *

><p>Edward could hear them.<p>

He couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. He wandered around Esme's house and finally found a book in her library to read. He started back up the stairs toward his room and that's when he heard it. Bella's soft, breathy moan and then a sharp gasp of pleasure.

He stopped in front of their door, his hand braced on the door frame. He knew he should walk away, but he stood rooted to the spot. Emmett would know he was out here; he would have heard Edward's footsteps.

Bella cried out and Edward's fingers tightened on the wood door frame, grinding it to powder. He inhaled and he could faintly smell-

"Edward."

He turned his head. Esme stood at the top of the stairs. She beckoned to him and he followed, reluctantly.

She led him outside to the rose garden. Blessed silence. Blessed clean air, free of Bella's tantalizing scent. Esme pulled a shawl around her shoulders, more out of habit than anything, since vampires weren't bothered by chilly air.

"You're in love with her," Esme stated.

Edward din't reply. He took a seat on the garden bench and stared at the marble fountain in the center of the garden.

"Is that the trouble between you and Emmett? The two of you used to be a thick as thieves." Esme took a seat beside him and Edward suppressed the urge to shove her off.

"Edward, I hate to see you hurting," Esme said softly.

"As soon as I find Lauren and make Bella safe again, I'm gone," Edward said tonelessly. "I'll go to Europe. Maybe Asia. And I'll never bother them again."

"You've been friends with Emmett since-"

"Not any more," Edward said, his voice clipped and terse.

"Oh, Edward, you can't let your feelings for Bella destroy a friendship of centuries-"

"Esme, drop it. It's finished. I ... did something. Something wrong. Something Emmett won't forgive." A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. "If I were in his shoes, I wouldn't forgive it, either."

* * *

><p>That afternoon, a small package arrived for Edward Masen. Esme brought it to his room, marveling at this brave new world in which a package could be delivered overnight from Italy. In her day, such a thing would take months. She tapped lightly on the door and Edward opened it.<p>

"Oh, good," he said, spotting the small box in her hands. He opened it and held the necklace aloft. "Perfect."

While Bella was dressing that evening, Edward approached Emmett and explained what they needed to do. Emmett pricked his finger and filled the small vial with blood and handed it to him. Edward sealed it with wax from the small tealight candle he'd brought. The top of the pendant had a small latch which he opened and the hinged top flipped back to admit the little vials.

Edward presented Bella with the necklace when she came downstairs to the parlor. "What is it?" she asked, holding the small boxy harm in her hand. It was small, about an inch square, with silver filigree framing the vials on the corners, the center with an opening large enough for a fingertip.

"A friend of mine in Italy is a silversmith. He made this for you last night. Those two little vials hold a bit of blood from me and Emmett. If you're approached by a strange vampire, push your thumb into the opening and break the vials. At the very least, the vampire ought to pause and wonder why you have carry the scent of two powerful vampires, and it might make them back off, or at least give you a few seconds while they're thinking about it to get away or call for help." He looped the chain around Bella's neck. "I don't know how long the blood would stay effective, so Emmett and I will refresh the contents of the vials every evening."

"Thank you, Edward," Bella said. "It was kind for you and your friend to go to all this trouble."

"Anything, Bella," Edward rasped, his voice raw with pain. Emmett came up behind Bella and wrapped possessive arms around her. Edward looked away.

"I spoke to Victoria this evening," Edward said. I think the best way to keep her safe would be to take her to the Queen's court. Victoria owes me a favor. If Bella is with the queen, she'll be guarded by the Queen's security team and a few members of the Volturi, which will give you and I a chance to track down Lauren without having to worry about Bella's safety."

Emmett considered. "That's a good idea."

Edward gave Bella a lopsided smile, so unlike his old cocky, crooked grin that Bella inwardly winced. "Pack up, Pussycat," he told her. "We're off to London to visit the Queen."

"England?" Bella asked.

"No." Edward smirked and put on a pair of sunglasses. "London, Ohio."

* * *

><p>The Queen of the Vampires was wearing sweats and sitting on the floor while she and her husband played <em>Call of Duty<em> on XBox. She paused the game and stood up to greet Bella. The Queen had long, curly flame-red hair and blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. Bella liked her instantly.

The Queen was currently holding court in Ohio, where her husband James had been born long ago, and wherever the Queen went, the court went also. He'd had an urge to see his home town again, to see if the house in which he'd been born still stood and if he could find any of his childhood haunts. The Queen, who was utterly without sentimentality herself, rolled her eyes as she related this to Bella. Her husband tugged a lock of her hair in retaliation. "You will be sentimental one day, too, young Grasshopper."

"Yeah, whatever, grandpa," the Queen said, and took Bella's arm to show her to her room. Bella didn't even consider telling the Queen she didn't like to be touched.

The house they were renting was a sprawling Victorian in poor repair, but it was the largest house available in the area. Still, the members of the court were double and even triple-bunked.

"I had to evict my treasurer from this room so you and Emmett could have it," Victoria said, lowering her voice to a stage whisper. "But I don't care, I don't like him anyway."

"I heard that," someone shouted from downstairs and Victoria snickered.

Edward was bunked with Caius, the head of the Volturi. He and Edward disliked one another but they remained polite enough to discuss Bella's situation and the challenges it presented.

Victoria took Bella down to the first floor and showed her the kitchen. Bella stared, open-mouthed, in dismay. It wasn't just the film of dirt over everything that appalled her, but also that the room had been used as a storage area for the court's luggage.

"Um, yeah, sorry about that," the Queen said. "None of us brought any daymen with us so we didn't need the kitchen. I'll get someone down here to move all this shit and give the place a wipe-down, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Bella said faintly, mentally calculating how many bottle of bleach it would take before she'd even let Emmett boil eggs for her in this kitchen.

With five vampires drafted into assisting, the luggage was quickly cleared and the cleaning began. Bella spent most of her time supervising because they apparently had no idea how to clean properly. Most of them had never so much as picked up their own socks from the floor, let alone scrubbed a kitchen.

"What the fuck is that _stench_?" said a high, sweet female voice from the doorway. Bella saw a short figure, their face blocked by the large load of paper grocery bags that the person was carrying.

"Bleach," the queen said as she followed her into the kitchen. "Did you get what I asked for?"

The girl dropped her load of bags on the top of the stove. She was a tiny figure, not even approaching the five foot mark, and so _young_. She couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen. Bella couldn't believe that this child was a vampire but the Queen had said that no humans were brought with them.

The Queen gave them a quick introduction, "Bella, this is Jane, my head of security. Jane, this is Bella Swan."

Jane gave Bella a small smile and a "How do you do?" before turning her attention to the Queen. "Have you been to a grocery store lately?"

The queen said in a why tone, "Can't say that I have."

"They're amazing! They had vegetables that I'd never even _heard_ of! Fruits from all over the world, out-of-season. And multiple types of everything. There were eight different kinds of apples!_ Eight_!"

"You got organic wherever possible, right?" the Queen asked.

"Yeah," Jane said, shaking her head. "Apparently, you pay extra to have stuff like we used to eat. Plain, out of the ground potatoes and milk from a ordinary cow is something special, apparently. Do you want me to put this stuff away?" The last was directed to Bella.

"No, thank you," Bella said. "I have to clean before I can put the food away. Thank you for shopping for me."

"No problem," Jane grinned. "It was fun. Though the grocery store smelled just awful, especially the meat section."

"That's why I'm a vegetarian," Bella replied.

After the kitchen and implements were finally clean, Bella made herself some fried potatoes for dinner, something quick and easy. They had forgotten to get her any spices, so Bella had to eat them plain, but she was so hungry it didn't matter. She wolfed down the food and went upstairs in search of Emmett.

Exhausted from the three hour road trip (it should have taken six hours but it was a vampire driving a sports car) and the cleaning work, Bella went up to their room and flopped down on the bed. She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Emmett was removing her shoes and lifting her up to tuck her beneath the blankets. Bella caught his hand as he went to leave. "Stay," she implored, "I want to talk."

Emmett made himself comfortable on the bed beside her. "What's on your mind?"

"How long are we going to stay here?"

"Until the Volturi find Lauren. It shouldn't take long. Edward feels you're safe enough here and might even go back to Fort Washington to look for her himself."

"You wouldn't leave me here alone, would you, Emmett?"

Emmett hesitated. He wanted to be in on the hunt, find Lauren himself and wring her neck for all of the heartache and trouble she'd caused but he wouldn't leave Bella, not if she wanted him to stay. "I won't leave you, sweetheart."

"The queen is nice," Bella said, "But I really want to have my own place. Being in someone else's house is stressing me out."

"I know," Emmett said. "And I'm sorry that you're uncomfortable. As soon as Lauren is caught, we'll go back and either buy a new little house, or we could rebuild. Whichever you like."

"Why is it so hard to find Lauren? With so many people looking for her, shouldn't she have been caught by now?"

"She has a lot of friends, Bella, and the Volturi aren't exactly popular. She has people willing to hide her and lie about her whereabouts. But we'll find her. She can't hide forever."

Bella considered this. "Wouldn't it be easier if we set a trap for her? Maybe I could-"

"Be bait? No. Never going to happen. Too many things could go wrong. I need to know that you're safe, Bella. And here, you've got the best security possible."

"Have you met Jane?"

"Yes, I know Jane."

Bella tried to find a delicate way to phrase what bothered her. "She's so ... young."

Emmett nodded. "Yes, she is. Our laws forbid changing someone that young, in case that's what you're worried about. But Jane is from another era. In her time, fourteen was considered mature enough to marry for the upper classes. She was married to a French duke, a cruel and brutal man, from what I've heard, but incredibly rich, which was all her parents cared about. She was traveling to their summer residence when she was attacked by a vampire. Jane apparently bit the hell out of him because she ingested enough blood to go through the change."

"So, you don't need to drink a lot to change into a vampire?"

"There are various theories," Emmett said. "Some people believe that the more a person drinks before their change, the stronger they'll be as a vampire. But Jane is an incredible fighter and pretty sharp at tactics, which is why she's head of the Queen's personal security. We have a scientist who's doing a study to see if there's a direct correlation between consumption at the time of change and the vampire's resulting strength level."

"A vampire scientist?" This idea amused Bella who pictured a Victor Frankenstein-type with fangs.

"Yeah, her name is Alice. The girl is _wicked_ smart. She discovered that vampires are real when she was in college and made a pest of herself asking questions and snooping around vampire clubs. They kept erasing her memory but she kept extensive notes in multiple locations so she kept figuring it out and going right back to doing her research. Finally, the exasperated owner of one of those clubs dumped her on the floor in front of the Queen and said, essentially, that if the queen didn't do something about this annoying little chit, he was going to swat her like a fly. The Queen decided that someone with Alice's smarts and curiosity would be a great asset to our kind and offered to change her.

"Since then, Alice has researched various aspects of vampirism. She discovered a way to preserve blood and keep it drinkable. Everyone asked her why she didn't keep the formula a secret so she could make tons of money off being the only one to be able to bottle blood, but Alice quoted Jonas Salk. 'Can you patent the sun?' The Queen pays her a salary and pays for her equipment; Alice said she doesn't need more than that.

"Anyway, she discovered that vampirism is actually a virus. Once introduced to the bloodstream, it spreads very rapidly, altering the DNA of the host. It switches off the aging gene, replaces the heart and other organs with a stomach that pumps blood around the body and grants enhanced senses, _et cetera_."

"She sounds amazing."

"She is. I was hoping she'd be at court, but she's probably off God-knows-where studying God-knows-what in some dusty library."

"Emmett?"

"Hmm?"

Bella's voice was small. "Do you want to change me?"

Emmett closed his eyes. "Bella, I can't imagine a future without you. But if you don't want to be what I am, I respect your decision and I'll stay with you through the rest of your life."

"I'd look silly when I'm a little old lady and you still young and gorgeous."

Emmett grinned. "Gorgeous, am I?"

"_Vanity of vanities. All is vanity,_" Bella said.

"For a girl who doesn't believe in God, you sure quote the Bible a lot."

"Some of the most beautiful English poetry of the 17th century is found in the King James version," Bella said. "_Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah _..."

Emmett's eyes darkened as he recalled the first time she had quoted that to him. He rolled over and tenderly brushed back Bella's hair. "_My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away_."

"I would follow you anywhere, Emmett. _Wither thou goest, I will go_."

Emmett kissed her and snuggled into her embrace. They lay there quietly for a while and Emmett thought to himself that her arms was the only home he'd ever need.

* * *

><p>Lauren was seated at the desk in her hotel room writing the Declaration of Independence.<p>

She was pretty proud of herself for thinking this up. It was problem-solving at its finest. Bella was stashed away with the Queen where Lauren couldn't get to her. Solution: t_ake down the Queen and her court_. Over the last week, Lauren had been quietly circulating in the underground clubs and what she had found was a great deal of resentment to the Queen's rule.

Right now, the queen was vulnerable in her rented house in Ohio instead of in her stone tower in Italy. No direct assault could take down her guard in that tower, but out in the open in Ohio? If she could stir up rebellion, the Queen and the Volturi would be too busy to protect Bella. All she needed was a distraction. Lauren was sure her plan would work.

Tonight, she was having a meeting in one of Fort Washington's old movie theaters and she knew she was taking a risk. The Volturi were hunting her and loyalty of friends only went so far. If any one of them decided to betray her to save their own skin, well, her goose would be cooked.

She didn't think she'd get a big turn-out since this meeting was strictly arranged through word of mouth, but hell, the Boston Tea Party had been only a couple of guys in crappy Indian costumes, right? And look what that had started.

What she needed was a rousing speech. Thank God for the internet. She'd been able to take bits and pieces and re-word where necessary. She finished typing and printed out the document.

She dressed carefully, in the new gray suit she had purchased. She used makeup sparingly and pulled her hair back into a low pony tail. She grinned at herself in the mirror. She looked like Hillary fuckin' Clinton in this get-up. She straightened her shoulders and practiced looking dignified as she gave her speech. Awesome.

When she arrived at the movie theater, her friend Emily met her at the side entrance. "Wow, Laurie, you look like a school principal."

"Thanks," Lauren said. "Did anyone show up?"

"Standing room only!" Emily said, jumping up and down in excitement.

"You're _kidding_," Lauren gasped.

"No, seriously! The place is packed."

Holy shit. Lauren walked backstage in a bit of a daze. She checked herself one last time and peeked through the curtains. Emily hadn't been exaggerating. The room was _full_. Lauren had hoped for half a dozen.

Now all she had to do was convince them to start a revolution.

She walked out to the podium and polite clapping greeted her. She gave a little bow and smiled at the crowd. She picked out the faces of many friends but the majority of them were strangers, having only in common a discontent with their leadership.

"Friends," Lauren said when they had settled down. "I come to you today to discuss something that has long been whispered among us, though many will not voice it aloud for fear of reprisal. But it is time to break the silence.

"I stand before you and say the words that stirred our country more than two hundred years ago, _'Give me Liberty, or give me death!' _I speak of the love of freedom, and the rights of vampire-kind, a strong desire to save from slavery's chain. The question I put before this gathering is one of great importance. I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery.

"Twenty years ago, we in the vampire community lost something, our autonomy. We were summarily informed that we had a new Queen, someone we did not select ourselves by the democratic principles of this nation, but rather someone who was thrust upon us by the council. Did they choose a leader based on qualifications? No! On the basis of a _birthmark_ was this woman made our ruler. This woman, this _fledgling_, forced upon us new laws, laws that go against our very nature as the supreme predators of this planet."

There were a few cheers from the audience.

Lauren pushed onward: "And whomever she decides have violated these arbitrary laws, she puts to death. No trial of our peers, no right to counsel, no right to appeal. For thousands of years, we vampires managed our own affairs, but now _she_ tells us how to live."

"Goddam right!" a man in the front row shouted. A few more added their voices. The mood in the room was one of swelling anger, and Lauren was delighted.

"We were told we had to register ourselves, to beg for permission before creating new vampires, and to surrender our God-given place at the top of the food chain. We are all now imprisoned under the yoke of the Queens henchmen, the Volturi.

And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument, supplication, petitions? That has been tried and tried again, but the Queen holds herself as final judge in the matter and she will not be swayed by words.

"Do not think that I am eager for conflict. I wish that the Queen would listen to reason, but even more, I wish that we _had_ no Queen. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free as God intended us, we must fight! If it must be war, let it come. _Let it come._ War with all our might and with all the strength God has given us, war against a monstrous tyranny!"

More cheers, louder, stronger, the voices blending into a roar of approval.

"I repeat it, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God which made us is all that is left for us! Together, we are strong. The Volturi can crush an individual but not a united front. Mark my words, my friends. The tyrants cannot stand against us all!"

She took a deep breath and shouted, "Who will join me?"

She heard numerous shouts in reply and she yelled it again, "Who will join me?"

And it was the whole room which erupted in agreement.

Lauren held aloft the page she had printed earlier, "This is our declaration. Our Declaration of Independence. Put your name to it if your heart yearns for freedom, if you believe it's our destiny for all of us to be our own master and to throw off the yoke of tyranny. I myself have resolved to shed my blood in the name of the most noble cause of all: freedom!"

"Freedom! Freedom!" The shout was taken up until it became a chant. They formed a line, each eager to put their names to the document that made them traitors in the eye of the Queen, even having to turn over the page to fit all the signatures.

Lauren suddenly realized how big this could become. She could go down in the vampire annals as a Patrick Henry-type, minus the whole hanging thing.


	11. Independence

Chapter 11

Independence

The body was human, of course. Vampires crumbled to ash when they died, the older the vampire, the more quickly the process was accomplished. He had been dumped at the end of the driveway, a young human man, his throat torn out, a metal tube stuffed in his mouth. Inside that tube was the Declaration of Independence written by Lauren and signed by over 100 others.

"Aw, _fuck_," Victoria said when she read the missive.

The Queen went into emergency mode, calling all Volturi and Council members to meet in New York City.

"Why new York?" Bella asked no one in particular, watching as everyone around her scrambled to pack and deploy to the rendezvous point.

Jane was the one who answered. "Because that's the Queen's American base of operations. She has an estate about 35 miles from Manhattan."

It turned out that the Queen had her own plane. Emmett sadly said goodbye to his slightly-crumpled Stingray, making arrangements for it to be shipped to New York after them. As soon as the sun set, a caravan of cars headed for the airport, all stuffed full of luggage and vampires. Poor Jane ended up wedged in the wheel-well in the back of an SUV, luggage surrounding her to the point that all you could see was the top of her little head of brown hair bobbing as they drove along. "Yeah, it's okay," Jane said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not like I need to breathe or anything."

"Oh, good," Victoria had said, and heaped her makeup case and carry-on bag in Jane's lap.

They arrived at Columbus International Airport about half an hour later. A sleek black plane stood on the tarmac and people immediately sprang into action, unloading the cars and SUVs, scurrying back and forth. Well, one good thing about flying a private plane was that they didn't have to go through TSA security. Emmett took Bella's hand and they walked up the metal stairs into the plane. Emmett had to stoop and turn to squeeze through the hatch, making Bella giggle.

She hadn't laughed much in the past few days. Emmett decided to ham it up, waving his arms and pretending to strain. "Oh, shit, I'm stuck. Jane, go get some lard and a crow bar!"

Bella laughed and grabbed his hands to pull him through. Emmett grunted and pretended to stumble forward, grabbing Bella and "falling" onto a set of seats. Emmett kissed her laughing lips. She should always have this glitter of mirth in her eyes. He promised himself when this was over, he would dedicate his entire life to keeping it there. The light died away reality reasserted itself.

Bella had never flown before and honestly, she was about an inch from breaking down completely. Her stress and anxiety levels were in the red zone. Too many people. Too much commotion. Too much moving. To little control of her surroundings. Too many germs _everywhere_.

The cabin of the plane was decorated like a living room with plush, soft seats in beige leather grouped around little tables and burgundy carpet on the floor. There was even a bar, its bottles and glasses held in place by brass racks. The seats filled up as the vampires came through the hatch one by one. Edward chose a seat as far away from the cuddling couple as possible.

Bella sat on Emmett's lap, clinging to him like a baby koala and flatly refused to buckle into her own seat for takeoff. This was it. She was going to go nuts. She buried her face in his neck and let out a little whimper as she felt the plane's nose leave the ground. She tightened her grip on him. "Bella, sweetheart, breathe," Emmett said, rubbing her back in the way that always soothed her. It wasn't working this time.

"Bella?" It was Edward and he was holding a plastic cup out to her. "Drink this."

Bella looked at the cup dubiously.

"I just took it out of the wrapper," Edward promised. "Drink."

She obeyed because he had the intractable look of someone who wouldn't move until she did. It was orange juice, and not very good juice at that, having a bitter aftertaste that-

Bella went limp, dropping the cup to the floor, her head falling forward to rest on Emmett's chest.

"Do you carry knock-out drugs with you wherever you go, Edward?" Jane asked, watching the scene with interest.

"Fuck you, shorty," Edward replied. He directed his attention to Emmett. "She'll wake up in about four hours." Edward retreated to his own seat on the other side of the plane. He put on a pair of headphones and Emmett could hear faint strains of Beethoven.

* * *

><p>The Queen's New York residence was an elegant Georgian mansion with a stone facade. It boasted seventy acres and adjoined a nature preserve that meant there was nearly a hundred acres of woods around the house. The house itself was over 20,000 feet and included a library, basketball court, indoor pool and a two-story library filled with books.<p>

Emmett carried a still-sleeping Bella up to their room. The room was oval-shaped and bed was in the center of the floor, its four posts covered with panels of a canopy suspended from the ceiling. She mumbled something when he lay her down, indicating that consciousness was slowly returning. He lay beside her, playing with a lock of her hair. He needed to tell her how proud he was of her, he decided. This last few days had to be absolute hell for her, but she hadn't complained, had maintained her polite and pleasant demeanor even when she must have felt like screaming.

"... sum wa-er" Bella mumbled.

"What? Emmett asked. "Water? Do you want some water?"

Bella nodded. He took one of the glasses that was on the little mini bar and washed it thoroughly and filled it from one of the bottles of water stored in the little refrigerator. Bella was trying to sit up, but having a difficult time. "Stupid gravity," she mumbled.

Emmett steadied her and helped her lift the glass to her mouth. She gulped greedily and sat back with a sigh.

"Are you all right, Bella?" he asked.

"Woozy." She looked around at the bedroom. "We're here?"she asked.

"If you mean 'here' as in New York, yes. This is the Queen's house."

Bella looked around her with a bit more interest. The oval walls were mint green with white wainscoting at the base. The ceiling had a wide ornate molding with a sunken, darker green panel in the center. One wall bore an ornate gilded mirror above a small table with a crystal vase full of fresh, colorful flowers.

She reached over and caressed one of the canopy panels that hung over the bed post. "You can really pull these closed," she noted. "And shut out the whole world."

"Sounds like a plan," said Emmett with some enthusiasm.

A knock at the door canceled any ideas toward that end. "Duty calls," Emmett said, climbing off the bed to answer the door. Jane stood outside. "You're wanted in the War Room," she said. "Go on, I'll stay with Bella."

"What's the War Room?" Bella asked after Emmett kissed her and departed for parts unknown. "Do they have a big board with a map on it?"

"Unfortunately, no. It's just the dining room, but since no one ever eats there, it's been re-purposed." Jane climbed up on the bed and sat on the end, her legs crossed in front of her. Bella admired the ring on Jane's first finger, a pretty little amethyst heart. Jane was very vague as to who had given it to her, so Bella didn't pry.

"Let me braid your hair," Jane offered, and Bella acquiesced. Her old shrink would be tickled to death at the amount of "acclimation" she was doing these days.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Bella asked, hoping she wasn't being insensitive with her curiosity. Jane disturbed her on a visceral level because she'd never grow up. Never have a lover, never be able to live on her own, never be able to have a job in the human world. Hell, never be able to get into an R-rated movie without having an adult-looking escort.

"No," Jane replied. "I'd be sort of in a difficult position if I wanted romance. I could either date boys who are my apparent age and be bored and annoyed, or I could date 'older' men and have people look at them like they're child molesters. Luckily for me, I don't have those sort of urges. I'm quite happy being single."

Bella supposed she was lucky if she didn't want something she could never have. "What made you want to be a guard?"

Jane didn't correct Bella by saying her duties as head of security were a little more complex than that. "I have a ... talent, you might say. And no, before you ask, you do _not_ want me to demonstrate it for you. I have the power to make people feel pain if I concentrate on them."

"Do all vampires have psychic talents? I know Emmett can read minds."

"That comes standard with the package," Jane said, dismissively. "Some of us have additional talents, but not all. the Volturi tries to recruit those with special abilities or at least keep track of them in the VAMPbase. As you can imagine, that wasn't a very popular decision."

"Here's something weird: Edward can't read my mind."

Jane froze, her hands stilling in Bella's hair. "Really?"

"Yeah." Jane still didn't move. Bella shifted uncomfortably. "Well, Emmett_ can_, so it's not like there's nothing going on up there."

"Bella, I need to try something. This could be important. Turn around and look at me."

Bella did.

"I apologize in advance because this will hurt. I can't control the intensity."

Bella braced herself for pain. Nothing happened.

Jane stared at her, an expression of concentration scrunching up her little face.

Bella waited.

"Holy shit," Jane said in tones of awe. "No one has ever been able to fight that off. You've got a talent yourself, Bella."

"But why would Emmett be able to read my mind if I've got some special ability to block vampire talents?" Bella asked.

"I dunno. Maybe you don't put your wall up when you're with him," Jane offered. She went back to braiding Bella's hair.

"Jane, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"If I was changed into a vampire, would I still have my ... issues?"

Jane considered. "I'm not sure. I guess it would depend on if they're caused by something organic in your brain. When a person becomes a vampire, all injuries are healed. Amputees regrow limbs, the blind can see, that sort of thing. If you've got a wire crossed up there, that would heal, but if it's just your personality or something, you're probably stuck with it." Jane tied a ribbon around the bottom of Bella's braid. "There, all done."

Bella went over to the mirror on the wall to examine it. Jane had woven her hair in an intricate pattern, not flat like a regular braid, but rounded like rope. "Jane, that's really pretty!" Bella said.

"Glad you like it. That's about the extent of 'girly-time' that I can stomach, so if you were hoping we'd paint each other's toenails next and talk about Justin Beiber, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Bella burst into laughter. "How about we play _Call of Duty_ instead?" She had watched the Queen play and wanted to try it herself.

Jane grinned. "I like you, Bella. You're my kind of girl."

* * *

><p>The table seated twenty-two and more chairs had been brought and set around the walls. The members of the Volturi were seated first, the eight highest ranking taking position at the foot of the table, the others filling in thee chairs situated around the rest of the room. Eleven of the Council members filed in, next. One seat at the table remained empty and everyone waited patiently.<p>

James stood in his preferred place right behind the Queen's chair. Once upon a time, some of the Council had raised a complaint about his presence since he was neither Volturi nor Council. The queen had been enraged and called the complainers into her office. No one knew what had been said or done inside that office but the men had emerged pale and shaken and said that if the queen wished to have a Mariachi band in the Council chambers, they wouldn't make a had been specially requested by the Queen and as a member of neither Council nor Volturi, took a seat along the wall.

Edward entered and the assembled company rose to their feet and bowed low until he bid them to rise.

"Lord Edward," Aro said respectfully, inclining his head. Aro was the oldest-looking of the bunch, a man who had been changed in his late 50s.

Edward, was, as usual, irritated by the amount of ceremony. "How's it going, Aro?"

Aro was irritated but he didn't let it show. "I am quite well, my lord. Your inquiry is appreciated."

The others remained standing until Edward took his seat. All of the members of the Council of Ancients wore scarlet robes except for Edward, who flat-out refused. He always wore one of his suits and no one challenged him on it. The way he looked at it, they should be glad he came at all. He hated Council duty which was, most of the time, dry policy meetings, ceremony and more ceremony.

The Queen entered at they all rose to their feet until she had taken her seat. Victoria was all business, starting the meeting without further ado. "We're missing quite a few of our number, but we'll have to start without them and fill them in later. Ladies, gentlemen, the shit has hit the proverbial fan. I know we were all expecting something like this sooner or later but I, for one, was hoping we had more time."

"My vote is that we go to Fort Washington in force and hunt down the traitors who put their names to that plagiarized piece of nonsense!" This came from a Council member, Felix. He was very short in stature and had a boyish face, which often led to people mistaking him for a teenager.

"That's an idea, but should we really have all of our eggs in one basket?" Jane said. "Our usual style is to pick off trouble-makers one by one. I don't think we could win if we were faced by an army."

"We've got to stop this thing before it gets to that point," the Queen said. "These are my people, even if they're in rebellion. I don't want bloodshed if it can be avoided."

"All we have to do is kill Lauren Mallory," said Caius. "After that, the rabble will fall apart and this will all be over."

"Perhaps we should consider terminating the queen's rule."

The room was silent for a long moment. Jaws fell.

The one who had spoken, Aro, continued. "You say you want the best for our race, then perhaps we should consider the way which would cause the least bloodshed."

"If you give in to the rebels, you'll never have another day's peace," Edward said. All eyes snapped to him. "Everyone will know that all they have to do is threaten rebellion and the Council will give in to anything they want."

"Lord Edward, you speak as though our race were nothing more than a bunch of petulant children demanding more candy." This from Marcus, the youngest member of the Council of Ancients.

"What they want will result in our race being outed to the humans," Victoria said firmly. "Point one of their Declaration: they want to be able to kill people, or as they put it, '_be restored to our God-given position as supreme predator on Earth_' which sounds much nicer. Do you think all vampires would know how to conceal exsanguination as the cause of death from a modern coroner? A lot of them come from a time when police investigation into a death meant standing around the body saying, 'I dunno what killed him. I bet it was witchcraft'. I created that law in the best interest of _our race_, not that of the humans."

Felix spoke up. "There are those who say that concealment is unnecessary, just a superstition of the Ancients, and we should openly take our place as rulers of this planet."

"Don't be ridiculous," Victoria snapped. "If mortals found out about us, the results would be horrific. We would be exterminated or spend the rest of our days as lab rats for some pharmaceutical company while they tried to figure out how to make an immortality pill for everyone. You think this rebellion is trouble? Wait until the humans fight us for _their_ freedom."

Felix looked abashed, sinking back in his seat.

"We should evacuate to Italy," suggested Demitri, another Ancient. "The Queen would be safer in the fortress."

Victoria crossed her arms over her chest. "And look like I'm running? I want to secure my rule, not make myself look like a coward. No, the fight is here and here I shall remain."

"My lady-"

"_No_. I've made my decision. Uni-fuckin'-laterally."

"Excuse me." The door had opened and a woman in a maid's uniform stood there, holding a cardboard box. "There's a delivery for the Queen and it's marked 'Urgent'."

"Bring it here," Victoria said. She held out her hand wordlessly and her husband, James, put a knife in it. She used it to cut the tape binding the edges.

Ash. The box was full of ash. The queen upended the box and dumped the ash onto the table. Something within the pile clunked on the table. Victoria combed through the ash with her fingertips until she found it. A signet ring. She wiped the ring clean and held it aloft so everyone could see the markings.

"Oh, no, that's Alec's ring," someone said. Victoria dropped it and buried her face in her hands, smearing her pale face with ash.

"I just spoke to him two days ago," she said in a small voice.

"Oh, Christ. Someone go find Jane." The mood around the room was grim. Jane and Alec were as close as brother and sister. She was going to take this hard.

"Who's the return address on the box?" Caius demanded.

"From 'Publius', postmarked Fort Washington," read Demetri, who had left his seat and leaned over the Queen's shoulder. "I don't know Publius. Anyone recognize the name?

"It's the pen name that was used by James Madison and Alexander Hamilton when they wrote essays we now call the _Federalist Papers_," Edward said. "Short for Publius Valerius Publicola, a Roman consul called 'The Friend of the People', who helped overthrow the monarchy and establish the Republic. More of their bullshit Revolution references." He gave a small smile. "Someone in their ranks knows their history, but I'm pretty sure it's not Lauren."

They all suddenly stiffened at the sound of a woman's scream of anguish. Jane had been told of Alec's death. "Poor girl," someone said.

The room erupted into a tumult of voices as everyone voiced their opinion and argued with his or her neighbor. Victoria stood, her white face smeared with ash, her eyes full of rage. A hush fell over the room.

"If it's a war they want, then I'l give them a war."

* * *

><p>As it turned out, a few of the missing Volturi had been simply delayed but the rest remained unaccounted for and no one as able to contact them. When one of the missing Volturi returned, severely injured, they knew that the hunter had become the hunted. Alec's death had not been a fluke. It was an announcement. It was open season on the Volturi. Reports came in from all over the country of attacks not only on Volturi themselves, but also on their economic support. Businesses firebombed, bank accounts hacked, homes looted and destroyed.<p>

Refugees arrived daily and because of the influx of new guests, Bella and Emmett were moved to an apartment over the garage. The queen apologized profusely, but Bella was delighted. It was like having her own home again. She sang as she cleaned and a little of her sparkle returned.

Edward lingered on the periphery but with so many of the Volturi on site, he felt his presence was no longer needed. On Wednesday evening, he asked some quiet questions and borrowed a car to drive himself into the city.

"You need to see this," Caius said one evening, leading the Queen into the media room and the large flat-screen on the wall. The image of the newscaster was paused. Caius pressed a button and the TiVo began to play.

"_And finally tonight, a gruesome discovery in Fort Washington where police say that ten bodies, two of them children, were discovered in a residence on Caldwell Street. Police are not releasing the names or manner of death but sources who spoke on the condition of remaining anonymous say that there were cryptic messages dabbed on the walls in the victims' own blood ..."_

Caius turned off the television. "The media is speculating that it's cult-related. I had Marcus hack into the police database. The victims' throats were torn out, their bodies drained. The culprits didn't attempt to conceal what killed them. And on the walls were the words '_Surrender Dorothy_'. Do you know what that means?"

The Queen nodded. "It's what the Wicked Witch of the West wrote in the sky above the Emerald City in _The_ _Wizard of Oz_. Lauren has a twisted sense of humor and she wants Bella. For God's sake, don't tell Bella about this or she'll want to sacrifice herself in order to prevent more bloodshed."

The Queen rubbed her temples. Vampires weren't supposed to get headaches but she was pretty sure that the conventional wisdom was wrong. "Okay, we need to dispatch a team ASAP to get down there and cover up this shit, change memories, hack and destroy reports and _fast_, before the media learns certain disturbing details that they would describe in loving detail on the six o'clock news."

Caius considered. "They planned this knowing we would have to perform damage control."

"Yes, it's probably a trap, but what can I do?" The queen tossed her hands helplessly. "This _has_ to be done. Select a team and warn them what they might be walking into."

The phone rang and after a few minutes, Felix popped his head in the door and said that there were refugees at the airport needing a ride. The Queen sighed. "Send Emmett." She'd been relying more and more on him to do the middle-of-the-road duties for which the Queen needed someone strong and trustworthy but not necessarily a Volturi.

It was one of the million small decisions the Queen made every day. It was one she would always regret.

Bella kissed Emmett goodbye at the door. "You won't be long?"

He smiled. "I'll be back before you know it. Just a quick ride to the airport and back."

They kissed again and Emmett closed the door behind him. Bella threw the deadbolt.

Outside, a plan sprang into action. Jane, who was guarding the door, saw Felix approach. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on switchboard duty tonight."

Felix gave her a wide smile. "The Queen is asking for you up at the main house."

Jane was suspicious. "Why didn't she call me on the radio, then?"

Felix grinned like a Cheshire cat. "All right, if you insist on doing it the hard way." There was a flash of a sword out of the corner of her eye, the last thing Jane saw. She hadn't even had time to draw her weapon, would have never thought she needed a weapon against a Council member.

Her form collapsed into a tiny pile of ash. Felix stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled. A figure emerged from the trees. Felix motioned him to hide in the shrubbery along the side of the garage. They waited there until the Volturi patrol assigned to this sector of the grounds walked by. He saw the post by the door vacant and fumbled for his radio. It hit the ground at roughly the same time his head did.

Inside, Bella heard a tap at the door. It had only been minutes since Emmett left. Bella threw it open. "Did you forget-" She stopped. There was a strange man standing there, looking mighty pleased with himself. _Bella, you dumbass, _she thought_. When, oh when, will you learn to use the peep hole? _Not that it would have done anything to protect her. They were prepared to break it down if she resisted.

"Hello," the man said, with a pleasant smile and punched her.

Bella was knocked off her feet. She fell, the side of her head striking the coffee table. Dazed and in a serious amount of pain, Bella patted the front of her bodice, feeling for the little pendant that Edward had had made for her. Emmett had refilled his vial only an hour ago, and Edward had filled his and left it at the door before he departed for parts unknown.

She caught it in her hand and pressed her thumb through the opening, smashing the two small vials barely feeling it as her thumb sliced open on a piece of the glass.

The man grabbed her by the arm and jerked her upright, sniffing. He shrugged and pressed a foul-smelling cloth over her mouth and nose. Bella went limp and he tossed her over his shoulder, running out the door. Bella maintained a faint grip on consciousness, watching as the man and Felix briefly conferred, Felix returning to the house and the man holding her breaking into a run for the treeline.

They passed two small ash piles, and Bella caught sight of Jane's amethyst ring glittering in the grass. _No, not Jane, no ... _He ran so fast the ground blurred, taking her toward the forest. Deeper, deeper into the trees they went.

It seemed like hours that she washed the trees flash by. He slowed as they came to a small clearing, a helicopter standing in the center of it. She could hear the motor and the blades were still rotating. The man tossed her into a the passenger seat and fastened her restraints then locked himself into the pilot's chair. He flipped various switches and pressed buttons with lightning speed, and then pulled back on the throttle. The helicopter lifted into the air.

He noticed that Bella was beginning to stir and pressed the malodorous cloth over her face again. Bella lost her tenuous grip in consciousness and slipped into a gray mist.

* * *

><p>"Wakey, wakey."<p>

Someone was smacking her cheeks. Bella tried to turn her head away, tried to lift her hands to stop him, but couldn't.

Consciousness came back with a sudden jolt, like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. Bella looked around, wildly. The man from the door, the asshole who had punched her, was sitting on a hotel room bed in front of her. Bella was tied to a chair and there was a gag in her mouth. She struggled futilely, apparently a source of great amusement to her captor.

"I never knew being a Boy Scout and learning how to tie all those fucking knots would come in handy," he said.

Bella looked around wildly, taking in the dingy hotel room which gave her no clues, no assistance.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Riley Biers." He stuck out his hand and then chuckled. "Guess you can't shake, huh? Sorry. First kidnapping."

"Mmph!" Bella cried.

"Sorry, I can't let you go if that's what you're asking. I'm doing this for Lauren. I've always had it bad for that girl, but she'd never go out with me. Well, a couple of days ago, she told me Lauren told me I could do _anything I want_ to her if I ... you know... took care of you and there's no way I could turn down _that_ offer." He chuckled. "I am gonna _wreck_ that chick."

Bella closed her eyes and two tears slipped down her cheeks.

"You look a little like her, you know." He reached out and touched her cheek. Bella started fighting her bonds again, screaming into her gag.

"Oh! Hey, no, I wasn't going- Don't worry. I'm no rapist."

Bella sagged in relief, gasping against the cloth.

"Lauren must really hate your guts. She told me she wants it long and drawn out, you know."

Bella's eyes widened and she whimpered in sheer terror.

"Oh, hey, no, don't get upset and cry and stuff," Riley said quickly. "I'm not into that torture shit. You won't feel a thing, I promise. I'll just have to cut you up some after you're dead to make it look good. Oh! That reminds me ..." He took out a knife and approached her. Bella bounced in her chair, struggling wildly.

"Hold still," He commanded, taking hold of her hair in one hand and sawing at it with the knife in the other. It hurt and pulled. "Lauren said to bring this back as proof that I did it, but I ain't actually gonna scalp you. That's fuckin' gross. She'll have to be happy with just the hair. There we go." He held up Bella's long, brown hair in one hand and bound it with a rubber band from his pocket. He put the hank of hair into a bag that lay at his feet. "She'll know by the scent that it's yours, and by the way, you smell fuckin' _fantastic._ You on some kind of medication or something? No? Well anyway, it's delicious."

He clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly. "I've never drank anyone to death before so I'm kind of excited about it. You want a minute to pray or something?" Riley asked, and god damn him, the bastard sounded sympathetic.

Bella realized with cold, desolate clarity that no one was coming to save her. She was going to die in this dirty motel room. Sobs silently shook her and she stared at Riley, trying to plead with her eyes.

"I really am sorry about this," he said. "I promise, it'll be quick and painless, if that gives you any comfort." He cut her legs free from the chair, unbinding her hands and feet. He removed the gag. "Don't bother screaming. It'll hurt my ears and piss me off and besides, this isn't the kind of neighborhood where someone comes running when they hear a scream."

"Please," Bella said.

"Don't bother begging, either. Begging isn't dignified."

Bella tilted up her chin and gave him a defiant look of hate. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to die crying and pleading.

"Well," he said cheerfully, "Shall we get started?"

* * *

><p>Someone had given him the wrong address or the club was more well-hidden than most. Edward had walked up and down the block twice and still couldn't find the fucking place. He was getting antsy. Vampires couldn't physically become addicted to drugs but the psychological addiction could be even more intense for their kind than it was for humans. If he couldn't find the club, he'd just grab a random junkie. God knew there were plenty around.<p>

He finally caught the scent of a vampire, but it was just a single male, not a multitude like he would expect for the entrance to a club and it - _Bella_? It was Bella's scent as well, a scent he knew as well as his own. What the fuck was Bella's scent doing in the Hunts Point area of the Bronx, one of New York's worst neighborhoods? Emmett would never bring her to this kind of place.

He tracked the scent through the streets and found a helicopter abandoned in a vacant industrial lot. This was not good. Not good at all. He backtracked, catching the trail again, going faster and faster as his dread increased. It led to a run-down motel. Edward's cell phone rang and he looked down to see Emmett's name flashing on the screen. _Oh, Jesus, no..._ There was only one reason why Emmett would be calling him.

He didn't bother to answer, taking the rickety stairs three at a time and running down the landing littered with trash and empty hypodermics, past dirt-smeared room doors, skidding to a halt in front of the door where the trail ended. Blood. He could smell blood. With an inarticulate cry, he lifted his foot and kicked the door open.

A man jumped up off of Bella, his mouth and chin dripping blood. He backed up until he hit the wall, holding his hands out as if to ward Edward off. "Whoa, hey man, don't-"

Edward didn't even stop to think. He ripped the guy's head from his shoulders, dropping it onto the lifeless torso, spinning back to the figure on the bed.

Bella lay on her back, her throat torn and ruined. "_Bella_!" Their eyes met, hers full of terror.

Her lips moved as if she were trying to say something. She gave one last gurgle.

And died.


	12. Immortal

Chapter 12

Immortal

_The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;_

_Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;_

_Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;_

_For nothing now can ever come to any good._

Edward lay down beside Bella's body and pulled her lifeless form into his arms, feeling the blood which had pooled beneath her seep through his suit.

"Oh, Bella, no, no ..." he whispered. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her temple. He wept, the force of his sobs shaking the bed beneath them. His pink tears fell on her still, white face. Edward pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently dabbed them away. He talked to her while he did it, telling her all the things he'd wished he could have told her while she was alive.

He knew he should call Emmett. It kept pulling at the edges of his mind. Emmett needed to know, but Edward felt that saying the words aloud: "_Bella's dead"_ would somehow make it real, grant it a dreadful finality he could not accept.

Her body was cooling. Edward scooped her up and carried her over to the second twin bed and laid her down gently. From the bathroom, he fetched a dampened washcloth and carefully cleaned the blood from her face, her arms, from around the terrible wound in her throat. Her beautiful hair had been hacked away, its jagged edges ending below her ears. She bore no other signs of violation, thank God, save for a deep cut on her thumb. He pulled the silver chain until the pendant came into view. She'd broken it, and it hadn't saved her. _He_ hadn't saved her. If he had turned left instead of right when tracking the scent, he might have arrived in time, if not to save her mortal life, then to change her before she was taken away from him forever.

Riley was nothing more than a small lump of ashes in the corner. When the maids came in, they would think an ashtray had spilt on the rug. That is, if they noticed anything about the room besides the huge bloodstain on the other be that loudly proclaimed a murder had been done in this room. It probably wasn't the first nor last. Edward wished he could kill Riley again, this time slow and using some of the horrifying tactics he had picked up here and there over the millenia.

He threw the bloodstained cloth into a corner and sat down on the floor beside her body. He laid his head on her stomach. He could have survived knowing Bella was somewhere in the world and happy. It would have been a hellish existence, but he could endure. Because there was always the chance, no matter how infinitesimal, that she would some day turn to him.

Now there was nothing left.

He took out his cell phone. He had a few things to take care of, first and foremost to tell Emmett. He flipped the phone open. Stared at it, getting lost for a little while in a memory.

He looked up at Bella and reached to brush a bit of hair away from her face. He was delaying, he knew. He had to do this. He punched in Emmett's number. Grief made his hands slow and clumsy. He glanced at her one more time, ready to press "SEND."

Bella's eyes opened.

* * *

><p>Emmett was in full panic mode.<p>

The call had come less than twenty minutes after he left their little apartment over the garage. _Jane and Benjamin dead. Bella missing. _Emmett slammed on the brakes and whipped the steering wheel hard. The wheels squalled and horns blared. Emmett didn't care if he had to ram every car on this six-lane freeway out of the way, he was getting back to the Queen's estate. He found an opening in the barrier which separated the lanes and took it. The minivan would do no more than 95, a frustratingly low speed. His gut felt like it had been replaced by a block of ice, heavy and cold.

Edward! He needed to call Edward, whose talents were far superior to his own. He dialed and the phone rang endlessly (Edward refused to have voicemail). He tossed the worthless thing on the seat beside him and willed this stupid piece of junk to go faster.

He disdained the ordinary route, driving the minivan the shortest possible way, which meant bounding through fields and dodging through trees. The minivan arrived in front of the Queen's house a smoking battered wreck. Emmett flung the door open and ran for the little apartment over the garage. He sniffed carefully. Four scents: Jane by the door, Benjamin by the side of the garage, Felix near both Jane and Benjamin, and then a scent he did not recognize. And there was the sweet scent of Bella, faint, so she must have been carried away.

Someone spoke to him, but he ignored them, following the scent of the unknown male. As if God were spiting him, rain began to fall. Emmett ran, following the trail into the treeline, desperate as it faded with every drop that fell. He lost it. Had to circle back. He lost it again. Had to circle back. He was soaked to the skin and the trail was nearly gone.

In a clearing, the scent trail abruptly ended. He circled around and around, growing more frantic as time passed, trying to pick it up again. Anything ... The smell of gasoline, oil, metal. He looked around for the signs of a vehicle. _Calm. Stay calm_.

Two long, thin parallel rail marks like skis. A helicopter. A fucking helicopter! Emmett screamed with rage and frustration. He couldn't track her through the sky. _Oh, God_. What was he going to do. He fell to his knees, the pain so intense that he couldn't move for a moment. He had lost her. He had failed her.

He rose to his feet and made himself run back to the house. Maybe someone inside would have an idea. He had just entered the hall when someone called his name. He turned to face them, feeling numb, feeling dead.

"Edward is on the phone."

He kept walking.

"You're going to want to speak to him," the woman said insistently.

He took the phone. "What?" he said.

"I have Bella," Edward said without preamble.

Emmett fell again, but this time it was in relief. Sweet, pure, joyous relief. "Is she okay? Is she safe?" he whispered.

"She ...ah... she's one of us, Emmett."

* * *

><p>If Edward hadn't been sitting already, he would have been knocked on his ass with sheer shock. Bella's eyes were open, looking around with the frantic searching gaze of a caged animal. She leapt to her feet with immortal speed, and spotting him, she hissed, backing as far away as possible, into the corner by the second bed. She crouched down, trying to hide.<p>

No heartbeat, though she gasped for air she didn't yet realize she no longer needed. No fangs yet, but she was one of them, a vampire. How it had happened, he had no idea. He smelled none of Riley's blood on her.

"Bella," Edward said. He crawled on his hands and knees around the bottom of the bed. He stuck his face around the corner. "Bella?"

She hissed again, trying to scramble away, finding nowhere to go. He tried to read her mind but got the same blank wall he had when she was mortal.

"Bella, honey, it's Edward. _Edward_."

She showed no sign of recognition, no sign she understood what he was saying. Edward sat back, turning around to lean against the bed. His head fell back and he stared up at the ceiling.

It happened sometimes. He knew that. People sometimes came back _wrong._ He wasn't willing to admit to that possibility yet. Bella might just be in shock from what happened to her.

Bella moaned and Edward peeked around the edge of the bed to see her clutching her abdomen. "Bella, sweetie, you're about to be very sick. Please let me come help you." He tried to crawl closer and she scrambled again, groaning in pain as she did so. He backed off, fearing he might be making it worse. She slumped over, crying out as the waves of pain became sharper. She moved restlessly on the carpet as if trying to escape it.

"Fuck this," Edward muttered and climbed to his feet. He went over to Bella and scooped her up in his arms, though she tried to struggle weakly. He carried her into the bathroom and helped her with her clothes. "I'm sorry about this, honey. When you're back to your old self, you're going to be as embarrassed as hell, but now is no time for modesty." The broken blood vial necklace still hung around her neck. He took it off her and threw it in the trash can. Worthless thing.

The change was brutal. He remembered his own quite clearly, writhing on the floor in agony, terrified because he was expelling bits that he was pretty sure he needed to live. It felt like your body had been opened and hot coals dumped into the cavity once occupied by your guts.

During her sickness, he supported Bella's body the best he could while holding out a trash can for her. Every whimper and moan was like a knife in his own guts. All he could do was try to soothe her with his voice, promising it would be over soon and she would never be sick again.

After it was finally over, Edward turned on the shower, stripped away the rest of her clothing and stood her under the water. She yelped and tried to struggle away, glaring at the shower nozzle.

"Yeah, I know, your skin is really sensitive. But we need to get you clean and afterwards, you'll feel so much better." He had to give up on the idea she'd stay in there and wash herself because she kept trying to escape and the sleeves of his suit and shirt were soaked.

With a sigh, he stripped down to his boxers and climbed in with her. "You know, I always fantasized about being in the shower with you but I didn't quite picture it this way. Be careful for what you wish for, eh?" He backed her into a corner and angled the shower head so she couldn't escape its spray. He set to washing her, first shampooing her poor, cropped hair and then moving down, trying to imagine he was washing a car. Use the flat of the palm to scrub the flat surfaces with the cloth._ Wax on, wax off._ Cloth over the fingers for the nooks and crannies. _I wouldn't have suspected she was a Full Brazilian kind of girl_, he thought before he could help himself. Vampires shed all of their body hair after the change, but Bella didn't have anything to shed.

Once he had her scrubbed, he lifted her out and wrapped her in a white towel. Thankfully, at least the linens smelled clean in this place. He dried her hair, gently rubbing her head with a towel. Her hair stuck out all over the place in spikes and clumps. "Sorry, babe, but the messy bed-ed look isn't for you." He wished he had a comb, but made do with his fingers. When he was finished he picked up her dress from the sink where he'd flung it. The back of it was soaked with blood, but she didn't have anything else. He tried to pull it over her head but she wrinkled her nose and said, "Ugh!" fighting away from it. Inspiration struck. He went and got a sheet from the second bed and brought it to her, tying it around her toga-style. "Good thing I had real-life experience with these, eh?"

He knew she didn't understand him but she smiled and _oh fuck me_, she had the sexiest little fangs he'd ever seen. He snatched up a towel to hide his, um, _reaction_, and stood in front of the door so she couldn't escape while he quickly dried and dressed himself.

His new charge seemed to be getting very sleepy if swaying on her feet and giving long, slow blinks was any indication. He noticed that her throat was now completely healed with some pink scarring that would disappear as soon as she fed properly. He scooped her up and deposited her on the clean bed. She wrinkled her nose again at the smell, but didn't try to get up. Instead, she gave an adorable little squeaky yawn, curled up and went to sleep.

Edward stood there, looking down at her for a minute. What if Bella never recovered herself? What if she stayed as this feral creature?

He would still love her, just as much as before.

He took his phone out of his pocket, sat on the blood-soaked bed on which Bella had died, and dialed.

"What?" said Emmett, his voice hollow and dead.

How to break the news to him? The good news? "I have Bella,"

Emmett let out a soft moan, his voice falling to a strangled whisper "Is she okay? Is she safe?" he whispered.

_Define 'okay'. _"She ...ah... she's one of us, Emmett."

"What happened?" He could hear the pounding of Emmett's feet as he ran.

"I'm not sure," Edward confessed. "I found her in a seedy motel, being drained by some now-dead asshole. She- she died right in front of me, Emmett." Edward's voice choked and wavered. Remembering the indescribable agony and bone-crushing grief of that moment was hard for him to handle, even now as she lay sleeping two feet from him. "And then she opened her eyes, one of us. I didn't smell any of the asshole's blood on her."

"Did you smell _any_ other blood on her?" In the background someone hollered "_Hey, that's my car!_" and he heard an engine start and the squealing of tires as Emmett peeled out of the Queen's driveway.

"Yours and mine, from the pend-" Edward stopped and dropped the phone. Bella had her hands curled up under her chin. Gently, trying not to disturb her, he pulled her left hand toward him and checked her thumb. A healing cut graced the tip.

"Emmett, I think it was the pendant. Bella cut herself when she broke the vials."

"Is that even _possible_?" Emmett asked.

Edward didn't know.

He told Emmett where to find the motel and that he should stop and buy Bella new clothes. "Hers are trashed," Edward said. "Sniff-test anything you buy because she's really sensitive to smells right now."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Emmett said and disconnected the call.

Edward went to the far side of the bed Bella occupied and gingerly lay down beside her. He reached out and stroked her hair. Emmett would be here soon and he would go back to not being able to touch her again, possibly_ never_ again. He slowly pulled her into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Bella's scent had changed of course, but it still smelled sweet and pure.

"I love you, Bella," Edward whispered. "Always."

* * *

><p>Emmet pulled his hastily-borrowed (well, maybe <em>stolen<em>) car over at the first shop he saw that had dresses in the window. There was a woman locking the door as he ran up. "Sorry, we're closed," she said without much interest.

"I will give you five thousand dollars if you unlock that door and give me five minutes to shop," Emmett said.

"Seriously?" The woman stared at him.

Emmett pulled a roll of cash from his pocket.

"Wow. Holy shit. Um, okay." The woman unlocked the door and switched on the lights as Emmett stepped inside.

It was a bridal shop, but it also carried formal dresses. He saw one over on a mannequin in the corner, which reminded him of the dresses in the Renaissance. It was a cream-colored gown in some soft sort of fabric Emmett didn't recognize with a lace over-dress that fastened just below the bust line and fell open in the front. He leaned in quickly and sniffed. It had never even been tried on. All he could smell was the faint scent of the seamstress's hands. "This one." Emmett pointed at the mannequin and the woman rushed over to start stripping it. Fortunately, the store also carried ladies' underthings, a bit more fancy than he knew Bella liked with all the lace and embroidery, but it would have to do. He picked up a matching set of bra and panties in the same creamy shade as the dress.

He counted out the necessary cash. The woman packed the dress and underclothes into a long box and effusively thanked him for his purchase. Emmett ran back out to his car and tossed the box on the back seat.

There was a vampire bar along his way. Emmett had never been there before, but he knew of it. He parked the car and walked into the alley, stepping between two buildings and tapping on the door.

A panel slid open and a pair of eyes glared out at him. "You got a pass?"

Emmett showed him his fangs. "Here's my pass, buddy. Let me in before I kick this fucking door down."

"Whoa, okay, okay." There was the sound of a deadbolt being disengaged. Emmett stepped in and headed straight for the bar.

"Two bottles of AB," he said to the bartender. "Fresh, clean. I'm in a hurry."

"You want some milk and cookies to go with that, Shirley Temple?" one of the vampires seated along the bar snickered.

Emmett ignored him.

The guy dropped two bottles on the bar in front of him. "Two fifty."

Emmett laid three Franklins on the bar. "Keep the change." He turned to go and someone stepped into his path.

"You're one of the Queen's boys, aintcha?" The man in front of him said. He was tall, thin as a beanpole and uglier than sin.

"None of your business," Emmett retorted. He stepped around the first and into the path of a second man, this one shorter, bald and remarkably close in resemblance to a bulldog. Emmett sighed and set his bottles back on the bar. "All right. Who's first?"

Ugly threw a punch and Emmett grabbed his arm, using it to fling the man back over his head into the wall. Bulldog charged, and Emmett spun around him, planting a kick into the guy's ass and sending him to join with his friend, examining the baseboards.

"You done?" Emmett asked and got only groans in response. "Good." he grabbed his bottles and headed out to the car.

Apparently, there were still some vampires who believed they didn't cast a reflection because the guys running up behind him didn't know that Emmett could see their approach in his car's windows. He jumped, landing on the other side of the car. The guy in front hadn't had enough time to slam on the brakes because he crashed into the passenger window and stood there howling as blood poured from his various cuts. The second and third ran around the hood of the car. Emmett hit the trunk button on his key fob and brought the trunk lid up to smack under the chin of the second man. He grabbed out the Japanese woman's sword, which he had been carrying with him everywhere since the day he "inherited" it from her. He held the scabbard and slid the sword out, spinning to catch the second man, still stunned by being clocked with the trunk lid, cleanly decapitating him.

The third guy ripped the parking meter up from the ground. A large wad of cement clung to its base and he swung it at Emmett's head. Emmett dodged it easily and flashed behind the guy while he was still hefting the cement ball up for a second swing. Emmett caught him from behind and the meter clanged to the ground atop a small pile of ash.

Emmett swung the sword lazily, twisting his wrist. He walked up to the first man, who was still holding his bleeding arm, staring at the two piles of ash which were once his friends. "You might want to run now," Emmett advised. The guy nodded and took off like a shot.

Emmett sheathed his sword and tossed it through the broken window onto the back seat. He opened the door and brushed out chunks of broken glass before he picked up his two bottles of blood and deposited them on the passenger seat.

In twenty minutes, he arrived at the motel. He tapped on the room door but Edward had heard him coming and opened it almost immediately. Emmett shoved the box and bottles at him and swiftly knelt by Bella's side. He brushed back the hair from her forehead and kissed the pale, smooth skin. "Her hair..." he said mournfully.

"It will grow back," Edward said.

"Think she'll sleep through the day?"

"Almost certainly."

Emmett looked slightly irritable at this pronouncement. Edward knew Emmett was longing to wake her up, talk to her, kiss her, all the things that lovers did to assure themselves that their mate was safe after a trauma like this. Edward knew because he wanted it too.

"She wasn't Under for very long. Maybe twenty minutes," Edward said, referring to the time between death and the time when a new vampire first opened his or eyes. The usual time spanned between a few hours and a few days. The Queen held the record, having been Under for four days. Her companions had thought something had gone wrong with the change and were preparing to bury her when she finally awoke.

"Then she probably won't be very strong," Emmett sad, still watching Bella's sleeping face.

"That's probably just another urban legend like the correlation between the amount of the sire's blood consumed and the fledgling's strength. And anyway, we can be strong for her, if need be."

"_We_?" Emmett said quietly.

"If she truly underwent the change from the blood in that pendant, I'm just as much her sire as you are. I could claim sire's rights."

Emmett narrowed his eyes. Sire's right gave a vampire custody of their fledgling for a year. If he and Edward both claimed them, Bella would be shared between them, just as Edward had suggested that night in their apartment.

"Listen, Emmett, there's something you need to know. Bella hasn't- Well, she hasn't recovered from her shock."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she's not herself," Edward said.

"In what way?"

Edward described her behavior and watched as Emmett's jaw got tighter and tighter. At one point, he interrupted the narrative. "You _showered_ with her?"

Edward growled, "Oh, for Christ's sake. I kept my boxers on, and anyway, that's not important right now. Can we stay on topic, please?"

"You know she's going to feel it's mighty damn important once she's back to her old self. Jesus, Edward!"

"She was filthy, Emmett. She was covered in blood and you know what the sickness is like. I didn't take advantage of her, if that's what you're implying."

"All right, all right!" Emmett snapped. "The important thing is how to help Bella. Do ... do you think she'll come out of it?"

"I don't know," Edward said. "Honestly, I've never seen a situation like this."

Bella woke up at sunset, jerking up and backing away with panic on her face, her eyes darting between the two men who watched her.

"Bella, sweetheart," Emmett said. "How are you feeling?"

She stared at him

Emmett looked away, pain twisting his features for a moment. Part of him had held the silly hope that True Love would overcome her traumatized reaction, if that's what it was.

Edward rose and went over to the little coffee pot, opening one of the bottles and pouring its contents into the carafe and sitting it back on the warming pan.

Bella sniffed the air, her fangs lengthening. She let out a little growl and bounded over the bed to the table and snatched the carafe, gulping greedily. She let out a little sigh when it was all gone. "Would you like more?" Edward asked, popping the cap and holding the bottle aloft.

Bella sniffed again and narrowed her eyes. She stalked around Edward like he was her opponent in a knife fight. "If you want it," Edward said, "You have to ask for it."

Bella lunged, but Edward was quicker, holding the bottle above her head.

"Edward, for chrissake, stop teasing her," Emmett snapped.

"I'm not teasing," Edward said. "Bella, do you want this?"

Bella nodded. Edward handed her the bottle and she sucked it down like she was starving.

"She communicated," Edward murmured. "That's the important thing. She understands what we're saying. Can you read her?"

Emmett tilted his head. "Somewhat. It's not really words. Just images, pictures."

Edward nodded. "She just needs time."

Emmett eyed Bella's sheet-toga. He pulled the lid off the box. "Go ... go into the bathroom or something while I get her dressed."

Edward rolled his eyes but complied, taking a seat on the edge of the tub and smoking a cigarette.

Apparently, Bella was more cooperative than she'd been earlier because it wasn't long before Emmett called Edward's name.

"I want to get her out of here," Emmett said, grimacing at the grungy room.

"I'll call the Queen, have her send a car."

"I sort of ... borrowed one. It's parked below."

"Check to see if it's still there first."

Emmett carefully opened the door and then looked down over the railing. "Yup."

"You walk ahead," Edward said. "Clear a path."

They were in luck that no mortals lingered around the hotel parking lot. Edward followed behind, pulling Bella along, a bag of trash in the other hand which contained Bella's stained dress and her old underthings. She had refused to put on the shoes, though, so she walked barefoot among the strewn trash and used hypodermics littering the ground. Emmett was unhappy about that but he decided that picking one's battles was probably a better approach.

He had Bella back. She was now immortal.

Everything else was just icing.


	13. Ingratiate

Chapter 13

Ingratiate

They drove in silence for a long while, heading toward the Queen's estate. No matter where they decided to go next, that had to be their first stop. Bella needed to be registered and they had to find out what had been happening while they were away, where the hotspots were and decide whether it was safe to move on.

"Did you speak with the Queen and tell her we're coming?" Edward asked, breaking the silence.

"It was Felix," Emmett mused.

"What?"

"Felix betrayed Bella. His scent was all over the scene. I didn't think about it at the time, but he was the only one left standing. The kidnaper would have never managed to get close to the house unless he had an inside man. He's the one who killed Jane and Benjamin. They trusted him, which meant he could get the drop on them. They never saw it coming."

Edward considered this. "We can't stay at court. Where there's one traitor, there may be more."

"Can we keep her safe, just the two of us?"

"We're going to have to try," Edward replied, his tone grim. He turned around to glance at Bella who was staring out the window at the passing scenery.

When they pulled up in front of the house, there was a group waiting for them on the front steps, a group in which Jane should have stood, Emmett thought, anger stirring in his gut. Queen Victoria was the first to greet them, but there were many faces which had smiles of welcome. "My car!" someone yelled.

"Bella, oh thank God you're-" Victoria started and then froze as she caught Bella's scent, the unmistakable scent of a vampire. "Bella, what happened to you?" she asked.

Bella ducked behind Emmett and didn't answer.

Victoria took in the two men flanking Bella protectively. "You had to change her?" she asked Emmett.

"It's a long story," said Emmett dismissively. He had bigger concerns at the moment. He cast his eyes quickly around the crowd and spotted his target. "_Felix._"

Felix jumped. "Hey, Emmett," he said, visibly nervous. "I"m glad to see you got Bella back okay."

"Are you?" Emmett asked, his voice pleasant. "Tell me, why were you outside our apartment shortly before Bella was taken?"

"I- I wasn't," Felix denied. He looked around for help, but no one offered it. The people who had been standing around him began to back away, leaving him standing alone, his face the picture of guilt.

Edward moved so fast that even vampire eyes could not track him. He grabbed Felix from behind in a headlock and whispered into his ear. "For every lie you tell, you're going to lose a limb, got it?" Felix replied with a low whine of fear.

"You scent was all over the area." Emmett commented.

"Oh, uh, okay, yeah, I was down there. Now I remember."

"Why?"

"I ..." Felix struggled ineffectually against Edward's grip. "I ... uh ... I had to take Jane a message."

"From whom?" Emmett asked.

"I- uh, I- I don't remember."

"That's bullshit!" someone cried and Emmet swiftly scanned the crowd to see who had spoken. One of the court secretaries, a woman named Renata, spoke again. "The switchboard was disabled all night. People who called in never got through. I've heard that from at least half a dozen people who tried to call. Felix was supposed to be manning it, but I guess he turned it off so that no one would hear an endlessly ringing phone while he was out doing his dirty work."

"No, wait!" Felix screamed the last syllable as Edward tore off his left arm. Blood sprayed the bystanders who had not moved far enough away.

Bella gave an inarticulate cry and crouched down beside the steps, using a shrub for cover, pressing her palms to her ears. Emmett cast a look at Edward who said cheerfully, "I'll take over from here!"

Emmett slowly walked to Bella and bent to scoop her up in his arms. She cowered back for a moment but allowed it. Emmett silently cursed himself for not taking her inside before she could see any violence. Of course it would scare her after all she had been through, possibly stir up ugly memories that she wasn't prepared to deal with yet.

Emmett carried her into the parlor, which was quiet and dark. He laid her down on one of those ridiculously ornate sofas that always looked like they would collapse like matchsticks beneath his weight. Emmett sat down on the floor beside her. "I shouldn't have brought you here," he said. "I should have just taken you somewhere else. Somewhere out of the country, somewhere away from all of this shit."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, sorry about all of this. Since I came into your life, you've had nothing but trauma. No wonder you don't want to remember it. I wouldn't either." He turned to face her, taking her hand in his. "But, please, Bella, come back to me. I promise to spend the rest of eternity making it up to you. I'll always love you, sweetheart, even if you never speak to me again, but I long to hear your voice. The Bella I knew was funny and sweet and loving ... and she was so generous and kind. More than anything, I want to see that Bella again." A tear slipped down his cheek. Bella gazed at him, then reached out and smoothed it away. Emmett turned his face into her palm and kissed it.

They were interrupted by footsteps. Edward came in, his dark suit sprinkled with blood and ash. Emmett pushed down his resentment. "Did you get what we needed to know?"

Edward nodded, a small smile playing across his lips. "He squealed like a pig. The Queen is taking care of a few ... housekeeping chores, but she'll be in to meet with us in a few minutes."

Bella sat up, sniffing. She walked over to Edward, her bare, pink toes sinking into the rug. She leaned closer to the bloodstains and inhaled and looked up at Edward in confusion.

"It's vampire blood, honey. It doesn't smell enticing to you because it won't feed you. You can drink it, but it would be like a person drinking a glass of water when they're hungry. It may trick the stomach into thinking it's full for a while, but hunger will come back with a vengeance."

The Queen entered, looking very tired and pissed off. She was not only troubled as a ruler by having traitors in her camp, her feelings were also hurt and she was one of those people who reacted to emotional pain with anger.

She took a seat on the sofa Bella had recently vacated and took out her laptop. "All right, Emmett, tell me what you saw."

Emmett told the story as best he could, including their theory about the necklace being what changed Bella. The subject of this discussion wandered around the room, with Edward always barely a foot from her side. He talked to her softly about the various objects that caught Bella's attention. Emmett noticed that she touched things without reservation, no longer needing to sterilize an object before handling it. Whether this was a good sign or bad, he was unable to determine. Unfortunately, whatever she touched, she broke, not used to her vampire strength.

"I've got to get Alice here," the Queen said, wincing at the sound of shattering porcelain. "She's studied our histories. Maybe she'll know of another vampire who was changed in a similar fashion."

_Crunch! _Edward's voice soothed Bella. "It's all right honey. It's replaceable ... [_Crash!_] Okay, _that_ one wasn't replaceable, but it's not your fault."

"Emmett, you're not listening to me," Victoria accused.

"Uh huh," Emmett replied, his eyes on Bella.

"Purple monkey dishwasher," Victoria said.

"Mm." Emmett responded.

Bella stepped up to the mirror mounted on the wall and gasped, lifting a hand to touch her cheek as if to assure herself that the face reflected was her own. "Yeah, your eyes are a little different, a little lighter," Edward said, nonchalant. "That always happens. They'll also get lighter as time goes on. Mine were really dark green when I was a mortal."

Emmett tried not to react, but it was the first time in five hundred years he had ever heard Edward say _anything_ about his mortal life.

"She's ... _different_," Victoria said.

"She's still Bella," Emmett retorted. "She's not out of control, so there's no reason for you to reject her."

"I'm not thinking about rejecting her, Emmett. I'm just curious about the situation. If Alice were here ..."

"Alice isn't turning her into a goddam lab rat," Emmet said fiercely. "Make sure she understands that before you call her."

"Alice isn't like that, and you know it. She may get a little ... distracted ... at times, but she's got a good heart. The only thing she'll be thinking of is how to help Bella, I'm sure of it." Victoria opened the lid of her laptop. "Let's get her registered, shall we?"

Marcus had been the designer of the VAMPbase and the accompanying website, which posted announcements, hosted a chat board and even had a dating section. Civilian vampires could only access the website, not the database, and could only access it after entering their registration number and password from a registered IP address. Of course, if any humans ever managed to access it, they would think it was merely a role-playing site. Marcus was immensely proud of its security, which he bragged, was tighter than that of the CIA. It didn't seem to be empty boasting; the database had never been hacked, despite several recent attempts.

The Queen entered Bella's full name, date of birth, date of change and assigned her a serial number. When she came to the entry for sire's name, Emmett said, "Leave that blank." Victoria, ever tactful when she sensed a sticky situation, made no comment. The serial number she had given Bella started with the letter "A", indicating she was sired by an Ancient, and the next two digits indicated that she was of Edward's line, but Victoria was pretty sure that Emmett would be unaware of that fact since he had never paid attention to such details. It was better for Bella, she decided. Being sired by an Ancient would lend her some respect in the community.

Victoria retrieved a small plastic envelope from inside her case and opened it, pulling out a small square of cloth. Emmett rose from his chair and called to Bella softly. She turned from the mirror as he approached her and did not flinch away when he took the silk swatch gently rubbed it along the side of her neck. Victoria held aloft a small glass tube and into it, Emmett pushed the swatch of cloth. Vampires had no fingerprints; the pads of their fingers were as smooth as glass. The only identifying feature that did not change was their scent. The sample would be stored in the Council's archives.

Caius tapped on the door frame. "I thought you should see this." He held aloft a newspaper which he handed to Emmett. Edward was lured over by curiosity. It was a copy of that morning's Fort Washington_ Daily Recorder_ "Look, Bella, you made the front page! Below the fold, but hey, still front page."

_Philanthropist Presumed Dead_

_Isabella M. Swan, who made headlines recently when she opened a "restaurant for the homeless" that proved very successful among even the well-heeled crowd, is presumed dead after a grisly discovery in a New York motel room. Police say that blood and tissue samples discovered at the scene make it unlikely that Swan is alive, though no body has yet been discovered. Swan's house was destroyed in an arson fire last week though police have yet to comment on whether they suspect the two are connected._

Emmett considered the ramifications of this. Bella had a will, that he knew, and she had changed it after they opened Bella's, directing that her estate be used to support the restaurant in perpetuity. Allowing the authorities to assume her death meant that she was, for all practical purposes, exiled from Fort Washington and the work with the homeless which meant so much to her.

He looked over at Bella, who was tracing the wallpaper's pattern with her fingertips. He refused to admit to himself that it might be a foregone conclusion.

A few minutes later, Bella clutched her stomach and groaned softly.

"Hungry, love?" Edward asked. She didn't answer but she didn't need to. Hunger pangs for fledglings could be very painful.

"I'll see if anyone has a live donor on premises that they'd be willing to share," Edward told Emmett.

"Why? I'm sure there are some bottles around here."

"I think it best she feed naturally," Edward retorted.

"This isn't a breast milk versus formula issue, Edward. There's nothing wrong with feeding her from bottled stock until she's more herself."

"She has fangs and she needs to know how to use them," Edward snapped. "The longer it takes to start learning control, the more difficult it will be."

Emmett snorted. "I remember what a _exemplary_ teacher you were in that regard."

"What," Edward said, his voice low and dangerous, "do you mean by that?"

"Oh, drop the indignation act, asshole. You let me kill people, and if you're similarly as blase in this situation, Bella will be under a death sentence."

"The law has changed since you were fledged. Do you think I would break the law in the Queen's own fucking house?"

"I have long since given up on trying to predict what you would or would not do."

Victoria interrupted. "Boys, if you can pause the bickering for a sec, you might notice that your girl has escaped to the front lawn."

Emmett and Edward exchange a look of horror and flung themselves out of their chairs, rushing for the door. In the most _Laurel and Hardy_ moment of Emmett's existence, they got stuck trying to go through the opening at the same time, only resolving the situation with a few moments of struggle and terse cursing. They bolted down the hallway, flinging open the front door.

Bella was on the front lawn, her arms spread wide and spinning as she laughed in unadulterated glee. It had begun to snow and she was twirling in the falling flakes, catching them on her tongue. Emmett was utterly enchanted by the scene. He joined her, trying to catch his own flakes, but always missing, making Bella giggle softly. The sound of it warmed his soul.

Small drifts were forming against clumps of grass. He picked up a small scoop of snow and tossed it at her. It hit her cheek. Her expression was so dumbfounded he had to laugh, but to his deep and profound relief, she began to laugh too and picked up her own wad of snow to hurl in retaliation.

Emmett protected himself by grabbing her into a bear hug from which she didn't try to escape. She was looking up into his face with an expression he couldn't quite decipher. Yearning, sadness, confusion ... She cupped his face as she had done in the parlor. He bent and kissed her.

It was a small, gentle kiss, a soft press of his lips to hers, giving her plenty of time and room to retreat before he did it.

"Em ... Emmett?" Bella said slowly.

Emmett could have leapt with joy. "That's right, sweetheart."

Bella was silent for a long moment. "I -" Her face wrinkled in confusion and frustration.

"It's okay," he told her, smiling down at her. He laid his head on top of hers, cuddling her in his strong embrace.

When he looked up, Edward was gone.

Emmett urged her to come inside with him shortly thereafter. Though he knew that temperatures no longer bothered her, he was slightly uncomfortable at seeing her on the snowy lawn coat-less and with bare feet.

They entered, hand-in-hand. Emmett shut the door behind them. "If the snow sticks around, we'll build a snowman tomorrow night. Sound like fun?"

"Bella, I have something for you," Edward called, beckoning her inside the parlor door. Bella's head swiveled and she sniffed, bolting after him. Blood.

Edward strolled back to stand behind the sofa on which a human woman was seated, one whose neck was freshly bitten. Blood trickled down from the punctures on her neck. The woman had a soft, dreamy look on her face that said she was fully under Edward's thrall and enjoying the situation.

Bella rushed forward but Edward prevented her from pouncing. "Bella, listen to me," he said. "No need to bite. Understand? Don't bite her. Just drink." Bella nodded and sat down next to the woman. She lapped eagerly at the lines of dripping red before latching onto the wounds themselves. "Very good," Edward praised softly. The woman let out a soft, breathy moan.

"Damn you," Emmett said.

Edward paid him no mind. His eyes were bright and hot with lust, focused on Bella watching her mouth and throat as she sucked and swallowed.

Emmett seated himself on the woman's other side. He slowly reached out to slide his hand along Bella's ribs, a caress with a purpose. If things went wrong, he'd already have a grip on her. The scene before him was sensual, the two women moving together, their pleasure electrifying the air. Bella tore her mouth away to gasp for breath she did not need and dove back in, licking up the blood that had spilled as her donor groaned in bliss. Her hands slid down from Bella's shoulders to her hips. She arched under Bella, moving restlessly in arousal.

"That's enough, Bella," Emmett said thickly, hating to be the one who had to tell her to stop. "Bella ..."

"I've got her," Edward said, pulling Bella back against the sofa. Her mouth came away from the woman's neck with a little pop and Bella struggled against his hold for a moment. "Now, now, poppet," he said teasingly, leaning over to swipe his tongue across the wounds and seal them. "If you took any more, you'd hurt her. If you break your toys, you won't have them to play with again in the future."

Emmett leaned over the woman and licked the small drop of blood from the corner of Bella's mouth. Bella reacted to his kiss eagerly, aggressively, the scent of her arousal perfuming the air. Edward gave a small, involuntary groan, and reached out to caress her. Emmett knocked his hand away and scooped Bella up into his arms. "Good night, Edward. And _thanks_." Emmet gave him a little smirk and strode from the room.

Bella leaned up in his arms, kissing his throat, his face, whatever she could reach. Edward's expression as he watched them go was one of longing and resentment.

Emmett carried her swiftly up the stairs to the room the Queen had assigned to them (there was no way in hell he was going back to the apartment over the garage.) He took a hand from her long enough to turn the knob and then carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind them. He set Bella on her feet and she went up on tiptoe, pulling his face down to where she could reach. She kissed him with raw passion, her fingers twining in her hair. Never breaking from her lips, Emmett led them to the bed, where he sat, making it easier for Bella to reach him. Her lips left his mouth, trailing down to his throat where she sucked at the skin and groaned.

"Go ahead, Bella, bite me," Emmett said. Better she practice on him than a mortal she could seriously injure in her eagerness. "Ah, fuck, bite me ..."

She did, her fangs sinking deep. Emmett pulled her body up against his, standing between his spread knees. She tried to suck while leaving her fangs in place but quickly corrected her beginner's mistake without needing instruction and pulled them out so she could suck at the wounds they'd made. Emmett groaned, arching against her. Holy fuck, it felt so good. So good.

Bella climbed up to straddle his hips, pulling her dress up to her upper thighs. She rocked against him, releasing his throat and throwing her head back in pleasure. She reached between their bodies to rub herself, or him, or both.

"Bella," Emmett whispered. "Are you sure you want this?"

"Emmett," she said, closing her eyes and humming with pleasure.

Emmett pulled her dress over her head and moaned at the sight of her in the lacy, creamy underwear set. Her body, pale while she was mortal, was now an expanse of perfect alabaster, the scars from her teenage surgery gone. Bella did the rest, pulling impatiently at the bits of silk and lace while Emmett eagerly divested himself of clothing, which was a bit more difficult because he did not dislodge her from her perch.

Emmett had always been a gentle lover. His size and clumsiness always made him fearful of hurting his partners, especially if they were human. Now that Bella had vampire strength and toughness, he no longer needed to touch her as though she were made of spun glass and her new appetites gave her a new aggressiveness that he found incredibly arousing. She ground herself down on top of him and he thrust up inside her harder than he'd dared before, feeling her muscles pulse with orgasm that triggered his own. He flipped them over, pushing her down into the coverlet and lifting her legs to rest over his shoulders. And she simply growled, "More!" Half-wild, Emmett hammered into her and pushed her head to the side, sinking his fangs into her throat. She screamed and he was pretty sure he did too.

Near dawn, they finally lay quietly together, limbs tangled, pleasantly exhausted, both of their necks festooned with multiple healing bite marks, and Emmett's back pleasantly stinging from her nails. Bella smoothed back Emmett's hair (it was time for a trim; his curls were showing). _"Thou art ... beautiful ... o my love ... as ..._" She said it softly, her voice halting and hesitant and fading away as she couldn't remember the last word of the line.

Tears filled Emmett's eyes and a beautiful hope began to bloom within him. "I remember the first time you said that to me. Do you remember it, now, Bella?"

She struggled. "Some."

He kissed her. "The rest will come. Bella, I love you. I love you so much."

She lay her head down on his chest and purred with pleasure.

_Icing._

* * *

><p>Alice arrived the next evening, like a small hurricane. She was a tiny woman, thin- almost too thin- with frail, bird-like bones. She had an insatiable curiosity about everything and any area she occupied was usually covered a seemingly-chaotic mass of open books, notes in her indecipherable handwriting, written in her favorite pink sparkle ink (though in a pinch, she'd been known to use things such as lipstick on a napkin to take notes when inspiration struck her) and dogeared copies of scientific journals, but she seemed to always know where everything was.<p>

Like many geniuses she was absent-minded in regards to practicalities like eating and paying the bills. Fortunately for her, she had Rose, her friend, confidant and assistant. Rose was a tall, statuesque blond, about as opposite as possible from Alice in both looks and demeanor. Where Alice was bubbling over with enthusiasm and excitement, Rose was calm, cool and collected, a person of few words, but when she spoke, everyone stopped to listen.

The Queen was relieved that Alice had arrived, not only because she wanted her to meet Bella, but because she'd feared for Alice's safety. Everyone knew she worked for the Queen and was intensely loyal. She would have been a boon to the rebels if they had captured her and put that prodigious brain to their own uses.

"Isabella Swan," Alice said, kissing Bella's cheek in greeting. "Is this the face that launched a thousand vampires?" Bella recoiled a bit at the kiss, but once she felt Emmett's reassuring arms around her, she relaxed.

Alice had already questioned Edward exhaustively about the events he witnessed in the hotel room. Despite her studies of the vampire histories, she'd not found a case like Bella's. The whole vampire community, including those in rebellion, were discussing Bella's change. No one had ever known it was possible to "catch" vampirism from a bit of blood seeping into a cut. Beliefs and perceptions had been shaken. There were those who thought Emmett and Edward had violated taboos in giving a mortal a sample of their blood in the first place.

Alice theorized that Bella's memory issues could have perhaps stemmed from way she was changed rather than the trauma she'd endured, but without being able to replicate the change conditions with another human, she couldn't say for certain. "She's getting better," Emmett murmured when Bella was occupied with looking at a sample of vampire blood under a microscope. "I really think she'll be back to normal soon."

Alice smiled. She had always liked Emmett. "I hope so. If you're interested, there is a test I could do to determine which of you was her sire. There are different strains of the virus that makes us what we are. I could possibly determine which strain Bella has."

"He's my sire," Emmett said, nodding toward Edward. "So I assume I'd have the same strain as he does."

"Oh," Alice said. "Well, that won't work then. Let me think on it and I may come up with something."

"It's not important," Edward said. Something in his demeanor had changed since last night. Emmett studied hin, noting the slump of his shoulders and the overall dejection. As for Bella, she seemed to be completely oblivious to his existence as she peeked and peered at Alice's curiosities and equipment.

"It's even possible for _both_ of you to be her sire," Alice went on, oblivious Edward's glumness. "I studied a case of a woman in a tirad relationship who drank from both of her partners when she was changed. She had both strains preset in her blood, but she's the only example that I know of. Usually, one strain wins out, even if there are multiple exposures. I'd still like a sample of Bella's blood, if I may."

"Bella?" Emmett asked.

She nodded. Alice fished a hypodermic out of one of her multitude of bags, and drew blood from Bella's arm.

"Thank you." Alice said, smiling at Bella. She deposited the vial within one of her bags.

Rose had retrieved a pair of scissors, and without word, gestured Bella into a seat and started trimming Bella's hair, evening out the jagged chunks left from Riley's knife. When she was finished, Bella had a cute pageboy cut that curled attractively under her ears.

"Nice!" Alice said. "You should have been a beautician, Rose."

"You look lovely, Bella," Edward offered.

She gave him a brief smile, but it was to Emmett that she looked for approval. "It's lovely," Emmett said and she went to snuggle into his chest.

Edward stood. "If you no longer need information from me, Alice, I shall excuse myself. Emmett, may I speak to you in the hall?"

Emmett kissed Bella and stood. He followed Edward out the door closing it behind them.

"You don't have to flaunt it," Edward said, his tone bitter. "I accept that she's yours, but rubbing it in my face is petty."

"It's not always about _you,_ Edward," Emmett said coldly, using the same words that Edward had said to him, the night of their fight in the apartment. "If I kiss Bella, what makes you think that it's because I'm doing it to taunt you, rather than because of my affection for her?"

"Emmett, I've known you for nearly five hundred years-"

"Stop." Emmett held up his hand. "Make no mistake, Edward. _We are not friends_. You made that clear that last night in our apartment. I tolerate you solely for Bella's sake." He met Edward's eyes. "If she did not need your protection, I doubt I could restrain myself from killing you."

Edward's face was impassive, but Emmett saw something flash through his eyes.

"Do you think I'm blind, or just stupid?" Emmett demanded. "I know what you have been trying to do since her change. You've been trying to ingratiate yourself, trying to make her look to you as her caretaker. That shit last night with the live donor was dangerous.. She could have gone mad at the sight and smell of fresh blood and killed that woman. You had no way of knowing how she'd react. It was reckless to expose her like that without any preparation. But you weren't thinking of her. You were thinking of yourself like an absentee parent trying to buy their child's affection during visits with all the sweets and video games Mom won't let them have."

Edward said nothing. He was as still as a statue, as silent as the grave.

"But it's not going to work. Bella loves me. She belongs to me, and I belong to her. All your little games won't change that. God, I'd be happier if I never had to lay eyes on you again. A _lot_ happier. But that's not possible right now. I don't want to talk to you unless it regards Bella's safety or well-being. I don't want you around unless it's necessary to protect her. You're a _bodyguard_, not part of our family."

Edward was silent for a long moment. "So be it," he said.


	14. Invasion

Chapter 14

Invasion

Lauren was_ not_ a happy camper.

It was no longer _her_ revolution. Lauren found herself shuttled aside, a figurehead whose input was no longer required nor wanted. This wasn't working out as she'd planned. All this work and she was still no closer to her goal.

Riley had been her best chance, and considering he had never come to claim his prize, she was pretty sure he was dead. When she'd heard about Bella's change, Lauren had retreated to her bedroom and cried for hours. It seemed like there was some horrible, malevolent force out there in the universe which kept holding her back. But she wasn't going to give up. She and Edward were meant to be and some day, he would thank her for all the sacrifices and struggles she had gone through on his behalf.

Now, if she could just get her revolution back ...

After her speech and the signing of her Declaration, Lauren had been introduced to Laurent and his mate, Bree. Bree hated the Queen with an all-consuming passion, though she flatly refused to answer any questions as to why. Laurent had been an officer during the War of 1812. He was wicked smart and had the vital skills in tactics and planning that Lauren didn't, and Bree knew how to plan a public relations campaign to sell it, so she was grateful for their help. Until she realized one day that Laurent was the new leader of the revolution and Bree was his second in command and Lauren didn't even make the list. Everyone came to him for orders and advice. He was the one who decided which targets to hit for maximum effect and which of their followers to dispatch on the missions to lure the Volturi out into the open. Lauren felt like she was shut outside, looking in through a window.

The revolution's leaders (meaning Laurent) had moved headquarters to New York. Laurent had a luxury apartment in Manhattan and he invited all of his "generals" to stay. Lauren was outraged that she was expected to find her own place, but she'd had a great idea. Riley had an apartment in the Bronx and, well, he didn't appear to need it any more. She found the place vacant except for a dead goldfish. The apartment wasn't much, tiny and furnished like a college dorm room, but it was at least a place to sleep during the day.

Lauren had worried they would be leaving behind their support network in moving, but to her surprise, multitudes flocked to join them, volunteering as soldiers in the new army Laurent was forming.

The damn thing had taken on a life of its own with sympathy revolutions rising up in other cities. They had a report from Italy that the Queen's tower had been taken and was now housing a revolutionary group. Laurent had been livid when he heard the group had burned the Council's archives, destroying thousands of years worth of history. Lauren didn't see what the big deal was that they had burned a bunch of moldy old books, and anyway, wasn't part of their revolution meant to free them all from registrations and records keeping track of what they did?

Laurent's strategy was to take out the Queen's support system and as many of the Volturi that they could lure out an pick off one by one. "Destroy the foundation and the house will fall," he said. Well, that was all fucking well and good but Bella was ensconced in the Queen's house, snug as a bug in a rug, and Lauren _still_ couldn't get to her.

They had a meting scheduled tonight to try to drum up more local support. Laurent never attended large gatherings, preferring to give his orders to his "generals" to carry out or disseminate as necessary. He said that it was too risky to have the important people in the revolution out in the open like that, so Lauren was given the task of making speeches and rallying the "commoners", as he called them. Lauren inwardly seethed at the implication and at being told to read the speech written by Bree instead of using her own words.

Well, that ended tonight. Lauren was before an audience of one hundred fifty, her neatly typed speech laid on the podium before her. Lauren ignored it. She looked out at the sea of faces before her. "What are we waiting for?"she demanded.

The room was silent.

"What are we waiting for?" Lauren demanded again. "We can cut off the Queen's cash flow by hacking banks and destroy the houses of Volturi members, but you know what? It feels like we're freshmen toilet papering the principal's house."

There was a low murmur from the crowd. Lauren forged ahead. "Is this a revolution or a Tea Party rally? Our goal was to remove the Queen from power and set up a democratic government and here we still sit and the Queen still rules. We're not any closer to our goal than we were when I first spoke out about the abuses of her rule. So, answer me this, are we going to do something or are we just _talking_ about it?"

A few shouts from the audience. "I said when I first spoke out that I was willing to shed my blood for our freedom. I meant it, but it doesn't seem like many of _ you_ really meant it. Oh, you'll sign documents and cheer at our rallies, but when it comes to action? I'm starting to feel like all of this was just words to you. Empty words and empty promises. All you're willing to commit to is complaining about the injustices we face, not actually _doing_ anything about them."

The audience was getting louder. Lauren threw out her hands. "I ask you men, especially those of you far older than I: Am I , a woman, a fledgling, braver than all of you?"

Shouts of "NO!"

"Then why am I still standing here, beseeching you to make good on your pledges?"

Shouts, roars of agreement.

Lauren clenched her fists and thrust them into the air. "Tomorrow night, I'm attacking the Queen's estate. If I'm going alone, fine. But I'd rather have you with me. Who's with me? I SAID_, WHO'S WITH ME_?"

The crowd roared, fists rising in unison.

Lauren smiled brightly. "Great! I'll send out the details on my Twitter feed. Spread the word and get as many others as you can. This is history in the making, the battle which will put an end to tyranny!"

It was an hour before Lauren could get off the stage because so many wanted to shake her hand or pledge their support in person. When she finally slipped behind the curtain, Laurent and Bree were there. She gave them a defiant glare.

"You stupid little bitch," Laurent snapped, grabbing her arms and shaking her. "You've just ruined everything, do you realize that? Those fools out there will charge forward and die in droves. We don't have time to organize troops or arm them properly or train them to fight!"

"And if the Queen hears about the impending attack, she won't have time to prepare for it," Lauren countered. "She's got half the Volturi out in the field, putting out the fire's we've set. There will never be a better time, Laurent. We outnumber her forces two to one even if the only people to show up are those in the audience tonight."

"So your plan amounts to choking their rivers with our dead."

Lauren smirked. "Something like that. Well, Laurent, it looks like you've got a lot of planning to do so you'd best get to it."

"I won't forget this, Lauren. You've forced my hand for the last time. After this foolishness is over, _I'll_ be the one to rebuild the rebellion out of what's left."

If Lauren's plan worked properly, she wouldn't be returning anyway. She and Edward would be taking off together and the rebellion could go to hell for all she cared.

* * *

><p>Ricky had a rocket launcher.<p>

Lauren stared at it in awe. When he'd offered to bring it last night, she'd thought he was bullshitting, because he had the look of a geek living in his mom's basement, but here he was and he had three shells for it. She had never been in a battle, but even she knew that blowing a hole in the side of the house would make it easier to storm the structure. Hell, look at how shoppers got bottlenecked in doorways during a Black Friday sale. He'd also armed a number of their company from his own sword collection, extracting promises from each that they would be returned to him after the battle. Lauren thought that was a pretty optimistic outlook but said nothing.

As she had ordered, her troops met in the treeline of the nature reserve that bordered the Queen's estate, far enough not to be detected but short enough to make for an effective charge. Laurent had planned that much, though he'd refused to be here to lead the troops as Lauren had hoped. Still, just by sheer numbers, they ought to be able to overwhelm the Queen's forces. And while they were busy with that, Lauren planned to slip away and try to find Bella.

She had worried a little about Edward, hoping he wouldn't get himself hurt before she could find him, but he was an Ancient, and it usually took a lot to take one of them down, more skill than any of these amateurs had.

Everyone wore a white shirt, which would hopefully distinguish friend from foe during the battle. Lauren herself wore a long, white dress, bridal in its purity. She'd thought about tearing down one of the straps and letting her tit hang out like that Liberty chick on French franc notes, but had decided against it.

The internet had proved valuable again in giving her speech material. She faced her army, sword held aloft. There were so _many_ of them. She was amazed and immensely proud at how many had answered her call. She even saw some of her friends from Fort Washington and wished she had a moment for speaking to them, but this wasn't the time for socializing. It was the time for making a rousing, inspirational speech.

"You are here today for three reasons." She called, raising her voice to be heard by the entire crowd. "First, you are here to fight for our freedom our right to self-determination. Second, you are here for your own self-respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else when others were fighting to win that freedom. Third, you are here because you are real warriors and all real warriors like to fight!"

She got a cheer for that and she silently blessed General Patton.

"Yes, everyone is scared in their first battle. If anyone says they're not, they're a liar. The real hero is the person who fights even though they are scared. A true warrior will never let their fear of death overpower their honor or their sense of duty. War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours! Rip them up the belly. Take off their heads. When the swords are slashing around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the ash of your comrades,_ you'll know what to do! _

"You may be thankful someday when your fledglings ask you what you did on this day. You won't have to look away and admit you hid in Manhattan with Laurent. You can tell them that you had the balls to stand beside me and fought like a demon for our freedom!"

The cheer that rose was deafening and Lauren wondered if it would carry all the way to the house, if Bella would hear it and suddenly look out a window and see the army Lauren had created charging at her and quake with fear. Lauren sincerely hoped so.

Ricky aimed the launcher tube at the side of the Queen's house and Lauren quivered with excitement. This was it. He fired two shots and then a third after Lauren screamed "Charge!" The herd of rebels surged forward, running across the lawn, waving their swords and knives. Lauren trotted along behind the last of the group, waiting for them to break through.

It was a massacre. She'd known it would be but _knowing_ it and watching it was something else entirely. The Volturi warriors cut them down as fast as they could swing a sword. The only time one got past them was when the warriors were occupied with killing another.

Lauren had been to the Queen's estate once before a long time ago, back when she was dating Felix, and she remembered its layout. According to Laurent, the Queen would probably be stationed on the third floor, and Lauren would bet that's where Bella would be, too. She slipped away, walking quietly through the battlefield. No one paid her any attention. She wasn't rushing at them waving a sword, after all, and everyone was occupied with those that were.

"_Bella, you cunt, I'm coming for you," Lauren thought. And afterward, she would find Edward and the two of them would get out of this deathtrap._

* * *

><p>Edward had been true to his word. After his discussion with Emmett in the hallway, he retreated to the periphery, always lurking within view of Bella but no longer attempting to intrude. If he'd hoped that Bella would notice his glum presence on the fringe and call him to come join them, he was doomed to disappointment. Bella had fallen in love with Emmett all over again and was more than delighted to spend their evenings romping and playing, just the two of them.<p>

Bella was doing better every, her mind becoming clearer as as she became stronger, learning to control her strength and her hungers. Only infrequently did she retreat into silence or have trouble recalling the past. Emmett wanted to move on, but Alice had asked them to stay for a little while longer. She wanted to study Bella's blood and try to determine if there were any organic changes which could explain her recovery. There had been no more security breaches and with Bella sparkling with happiness, he found himself almost reluctant to discuss the idea of moving on, hating to disrupt any part of this idyll.

Bella and Emmett were in the yard trying to build an igloo when the explosion hit. Both of them were knocked off their feet by the percussion wave into the pile of snow they were shaping. Emmett rolled over Bella, shielding her with his own body, instinctively growling as he searched for what had attacked his mate. Edward, who had been lurking under the trees, smoking cigarette after cigarette, was at their side in an instant. He crouched beside them, his eyes scanning, searching. "What the fuck was th-"

Another blast. Bella let out a short scream, hiding her face in Emmett's chest as she still did whenever she was stressed and clutching him tighter.

The side of the house had been blasted, a huge, gaping hole that showed the interior. People staggered around, dazed by the blast. Small fires burned here and there.

"Oh, shit," Edward said. He was the only one who had been looking in the opposite direction, toward the treeline. Emmett swung around and breathed out his own curse. It was an army. An army of vampires running toward them.

One of the group paused and knelt, a long dark green tube on his shoulder. "_INCOMING_! Everybody, get down!" Edward shouted, throwing himself to the ground as another RPG slammed into the house, blowing debris into the air.

"Get Bella to the saferoom," Edward told Emmett. "Go, now!"

Emmett swooped Bella up into his arms and took off at a dead run, jumping through one of the gaping holes and heading toward the back of the house where the stairs to the basement were. Bella smacked his shoulders and yelled to be put down, insisting she didn't want to go to the saferoom. His way was blocked by a mass of people running in the opposite direction, some running to see what the noise was, some running to flee, others looking for friends and loved ones. Shouted names, screams of pain from the injured, the air thick with dust and smoke. People called to him as he passed, asking the same question, "What's happening?"

Edward answered for him, shouting so the whole house could hear. "We're under attack! At least one hundred hostiles headed this way. Don't just stand there, you fools, arm yourselves!"

Someone hit the alarm and a klaxon blared. Emmett saw the Queen running through the halls and opening weapons storage cabinets, passing out swords, working alongside James to try to arm and protect her people. The Volturi were taking battle stations.

Emmett finally reached the stairs and pounded down them. He reached the wine racks and set Bella on her feet. Tugging one of the bottles caused the rack to swing outward but which one was it? He couldn't remember. He began twisting bottles at random, growing more frantic as time passed. He heard the clatter of footsteps coming down the stairs and he pushed Bella behind him. But it wasn't the enemy. It was more terrified refugees hoping to hide in the panic room. How many people knew it was there, Emmett wondered as he resumed bottle-tugging. The others, catching on to what he was doing, started pulling too as the room filled with those hoping for a safe haven.

The rack sprang open when one of them finally hit on the right bottle. The room behind the thick steel door was small, too small for all of the people crowding forward, trying to secure a place. In the front was someone's dayman and his family, his two small children weeping in terror, his wife in a nightgown, her face blank with shock.

"Bella, inside," Emmett commanded.

"No," Bella said. She moved aside and gestured the dayman and his family forward.

"Bella, there isn't time to argue-"

"I know. We'd better get moving." Bella stepped aside and another woman pushed into the tiny room. "Emmett, I belong at your side and that's where I'll be, and all the legions of hell couldn't make me budge from my rightful place."

"Sweetheart, you don't know how to fight," he said. Space was growing tighter in the small room. He stopped a man from pushing his way inside and bellowed, "Only those with small children!"

"Let the children through," someone shouted, a big, blond woman who began shoving adults to the side to make a path. She began collecting children from the crowd, pulling them from mothers' arms if need be, shoving and ramming her way through the room. She reached the front and gently pushed the little ones inside, stepping back to shut the door. She turned around and Bella finally saw her face. "Rose!" she cried. "Where's Alice?"

Rose pointed upstairs. It was all that needed to be said.

With the doors shut, the rest of those hoping for refuge stood, staring at the door, not knowing what to do. "Start building a barricade," Emmett shouted, closing the wine rack over the door to conceal it. "Rose, can you ...?"

"Got it," Rose said. She ripped down a rack from the far wall, sending dozens of bottles crashing to the ground and stacked carried it to the base of the stairs. Bella Held her hand out to Emmett. He gave an exasperated sigh, but smiled and took it. They dashed up the stairs and could hear Rose behind them sling the wine rack into place, blocking the stairs.

The scene upstairs was much more organized now, calmer. The civilians had been shoved into rooms off to the side, with orders to lock the door and stay there. Bella and Emmett found Edward in the front lines, standing outside the gaping hole in the wall. He was wielding a sword in each hand. "What the fuck is she doing here? I told you to put her in the safe room!"

"It was full," Bella said.

"Goddammit. Emmett, at least get her back behind the lines, in the ball room on the third floor. That's where the Queen is." And that's when the line of white-clad enemy vampires reached the front of the house. Edward jumped into the fray, both blades flashing. Emmett tugged at Bella's hand and she reluctantly went with him, leaving Edward behind. "Emmet, he should come with us."

"He's where he wants to be," Emmett said. "Come on, Bella! Or do I need to carry you again?"

She picked up the pace, running up the staircase beside him. The first landing was occupied by another contingent of Volturi, swords at the ready. Marcus and Aro stood with them, their faces still and impassive. Bella glanced back and saw white-shirted enemies pour into the hall below them, having overwhelmed the front lines with sheer numbers.

Emmett saw them too and quickened the pace, reaching the third floor in a flash. The ball room was located toward the back of the house. They ran down the silent hall, Bella noting bedroom doors standing open. She saw a couple of civilians inside one of them, lying spooned together, silent, waiting for their fate to come, whatever that might be.

The Queen was in the center of the ballroom itself, a sword ready in her hand, James positioned in front of her. "Bella!" she said, and the line of Volturi around her opened to admit the two newcomers. Below them, Bella could hear the sounds of fighting, clashing swords, screams of pain. Alice burst through the doors, two swords clasped in her hands. "They're coming!" she cried.

"Brace the doors!" Caius yelled. He thrust a sword through the door handles and then bent the blade around them. People began to pile the few pieces of furniture in the room against the doors. Alice grabbed a tall case clock, moving it easily though it was nearly twice her size and propped it diagonally against the doors, its chimes clanging, making the Queen wince. "It's a Seth Thomas, James."

"Everything's replaceable, except for you," James replied. He gazed down into his wife's eyes for a stolen moment and put his arm around her shoulders.

Emmett turned to Bella, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He stroked her hair and pulled her in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Bella shuddered, but would not allow herself to show fear. She had to be brave for Emmett.

_Wham!_ Something struck the doors so hard they shuddered in their frames. Bella jumped in Emmett's arms and squeezed him tighter.

_Wham! _Cracks appeared in their surface, bowing inward from the force of the hits

_Wham_! The wood splintered and Bella could see a crowd of faces peering through. James pulled a knife from his belt, tossed it in his hand to get the proper grip and flung it with vicious force through one of the narrow openings. Someone outside screamed and he smiled.

The ballroom doors splintered and then caved, breaking out of their frames and forming a steep ramp over the tables and chairs piled against the doors. Someone kicked over the clock and the Queen sighed loudly as it crashed to the floor. A few of the white-shirts had gotten past the lines, not many, but enough. The Volturi crouched in readiness and the white-shirts attacked, swords clashing, fists and feet flying.

Emmett had retrieved weapons from the cabinet in the hall and wished he'd had a chance to take his own sword from the bedroom. He pressed the hilt of a sword into Bella's hand. "Try for the neck," he advised. He bent down and gave her a hard, fast kiss and turned back toward the enemy. One broke through the line and rushed at him, screaming. Emmett flicked his wrist and the sword he was holding cleanly decapitated the man. "See?" he said. "Nothing to it."

"I love you, Emmett," Bella said. She wanted to make sure he heard it, one last time, just in case...

"I love you, too, Bella." Then there was no more time for talk because everyone was involved in the fight. Bella stood alone, her sword held out at the ready. Her hand trembled a bit. Emmett was fighting with a large blond man, their swords clashing, moving so fast they were merely a blur of motion. Bella crept up behind them and lashed out with her sword with all of her strength. The steel bit through the blond's neck and also took off the top of his left shoulder. He was ashes before he hit the ground. Emmett stared at Bella, his mouth slightly agape. "You were right. Easy," Bella said.

Another wave of enemies surged through the door and there was no more time for talk. Emmett was re-engaged and Bella watched for an opening to assist him, but he and his opponent spun and moved so fast, Bella couldn't get a clear shot. Across the room, she saw Alice spinning like a Dervish, her swords mowing down rebels left and right.

"Bella," a woman's voice said from behind her, sounding happy to see her.

She spun around. "Lauren!" Lauren's long white dress was spattered with blood and grayed with ash and had a gash across the abdomen.

"You look like Donner Party Barbie," Bella said. One of the things which made control so precarious for a fledgeling was that their emotions ran stronger than that of a mortal. They loved intensely, they hated intensely and their rage was explosive. Bella felt that rage building up inside her as she looked at the woman who had caused her so much pain.

Lauren's eyes narrowed. "You have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy killing you."

Bella held out her sword. "Bring it, bitch!"

Lauren was on top of her so fast that Bella never had an opportunity to use the sword. She had to drop it in order to have her hands free. Lauren ripped and gouged and scratched and tore at Bella, her intention apparently to vent her rage instead of going directly for the kill. Bella fought back the best she could but had never been in a fight before and it sure wasn't as easy as it looked in the movies. The two of them rolled across the floor, using nails and teeth. Bella grabbed a wad of Lauren's hair and ripped it out. Lauren screamed in pain, raking her nails down Bella's cheek.

"That was for my cat," Bella snarled as she pulled out another handful. "And that was for my house!" Lauren flipped her over so that Bella was on her back with Lauren atop her. Bella bucked and writhed but she couldn't dislodge Lauren from her place. Lauren pulled out a knife and pressed it to Bella's throat. "Now you die," she said.

"Lauren!" Edward's voice rang out and Lauren instantly froze. Bella heaved and threw her off. "Lauren, come to me." Lauren leapt to her feet and ran to Edward, shouting his name.

She threw her arms around him. "Edward, my love," she crooned, as if they were in a bedroom, not a battlefield. Edward looked down at her, capturing her face in his hands. She looked up at him with shining eyes. "Everything I've done, I've done for love," Lauren said, closing her eyes and waiting for his kiss.

"Same here," Edward said. And ripped her head off.

A blood-curdling scream rent the air. Bella and Edward simultaneously turned to find the source, Lauren forgotten.

"_JAMES_!" Victoria fell to her knees, her hands pressing into a pile of ash before her, a pile of ash which had been her mate, her love, her everything just a second ago. The woman who had killed him stood before her with a grin, lifting the sword to finish her off, too. Victoria, with tears running down her cheeks, didn't even try.

Edward kicked the woman, his foot landing in the dip of her spine, snapping it instantly, She fell to the ground and Edward used her own sword to slice off her head. He grabbed Victoria roughly, hauling her to her feet. Her eyes stayed fastened to the ash pile. With all the force in his arm, he slapped Victoria across the face. "Snap out of it, you whiny bitch! _You are a_ _QUEEN_!"

Victoria snarled at him in rage, but the reason he'd done it dawned on her and she gave him a little nod of thanks. She pressed her hands into the pile and then smeared James's ash on her cheeks and forehead. She stood, squaring her shoulders, her eyes blazing. Edward bowed and handed her the sword he held. With a cry, she jumped back into the fray, slashing and fighting with all of the anger growing inside of her.

And at last, the sound of clashing steel faded away. The last of the enemy soldiers fell into ash. There was a moment of confusion when everyone looked around for more opponents and saw none and asked, "Is it over?"

The victors stood in the rubble, taking stock of who was left. The sound of weeping filled the air, blending with the moans of pain from the injured. There had been too many losses.

Victoria returned to the small pile of ash that had been her mate, kneeling down beside it. "My lady?" Caius said. "My lady? We must move on. We have to get you out of this house to a secure location."

Victoria acted as if she didn't hear him. She took off the locket she wore and scooped a bit of James's ash into it. She refastened it around her neck and stood, tears making tracks on the ash on her cheeks.

Alice came over to her and pulled her stiff form into a hug. "I'm sorry, Victoria," she said.

The Queen nodded. She picked up her husband's sword and followed Caius out of the room. Everyone gathered in the first floor foyer, including those from the safe room. They stared in awe at the extent of the destruction. No room was untouched. Someone grabbed an extinguisher and put out the few small fires.

"Pack your things," Aro shouted. "Everyone, we are evacuating to England. Meet out front in one hour."

Emmet turned to Bella. "Do you want to go with the Queen? She can always use our help if you want to, or we could set off on our own. It's your choice, Bella."

Bella shook her head. "I think I'm done with war for a while."

Edward found them in the hallway outside their room, preparing to go in and pack their few belongings. "I'm glad to see you're both safe," he said.

"We're leaving," Emmett said bluntly. "Lauren's dead. No one is gunning for Bella any longer. We don't need you."

Bella gave him a chastising look for his coldness, but didn't disagree.

"Please, may I speak to her?" Edward begged. "One last time. Please, Emmett ..."

Emmett studied him for a silent moment and then walked away, going into their bedroom and pulling the suitcase from under the bed. Edward led her a few paces away to the balcony overlooking the foyer. He stood there for a moment before turning to face her. "Bella, I have to say something to you. If I don't say it, I know I'll regret it forever and will always wonder if it might have changed things."

"Edward, don't," Bella said, her eyes full of compassion. "Please, don't. I know what you're going to say ..."

"I have to. Just ... let me, please." Edward took a deep breath, inhaling her scent, different now that she was a vampire, but still the lovely aroma of Bella. "I love you. I've never loved anyone before. Never thought I was even capable of it, but somehow, you opened my heart." He paused for a moment to cup her face. "my heart is not the only change you wrought in me, Bella. For the first time in an absurdly long existence, someone else matters more to me than _me. _Your happiness is more important than my own. I'm asking for you to come away with me now, to give me a chance to prove how much I've changed, how much I've grown just in the short time since I met you. I swear that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy."

Bella said simply, "Edward, I'm sorry. I love Emmett."

Tears spilled out of his eyes down his cheeks, contrasting with the smile he tried to force onto his face. "I know. I just had to try." He met her eyes and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "I meant it when I said your happiness is more important to me than my own. I've watched you these past few days and I can see that Emmett makes you happy, and I love you enough to let you go. But if you ever need me, know that I'll be there for you."

Bella felt tears of her own welling, spilling. "Edward, I hate to see you leave without repairing your friendship with Emmett. Can't you-"

He shook his head. "That's not in the cards right now, love. Maybe someday, but not right now."

"Where will you go?"

He gave her one of his old crooked smiles. "Does it matter?"

She took his hands in her own. "Edward, I know you don't believe me right now, but you'll find your true love some day, and you'll be happy with her. I want you to be happy. You deserve it, you know."

"That's arguable, love," he said. He leaned toward her, hesitant, waiting to be rebuffed and then leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to her lips. "Goodbye, Bella."

"Goodbye, Edward. Please, take care of yourself."

He nodded, then turned and walked away, not looking back.

Bella went into the bedroom. Emmett had just finished packing. He glanced up at her as he zipped the suitcase. "Everything all right?"

She nodded and sat down on the bed.

"You don't have to feel guilty," Emmett told her. He hadn't heard the conversation but he guessed the gist of it. "None of it was your fault."

Bella nodded. Emmett knew it would probably be a while before she believed it.

They headed downstairs, Emmett carrying their suitcase, and were stopped by Alice. Rose stood beside her, as silent as a cigar store Indian as Alice hugged Bella and told her how much she'd miss her. "Goodbye! I wish we'd had more time. Thanks for all of your help with my experiments."

"Bye, Alice. I hope to see you again."

"Oh, count on it, girlie. I'll call you sometime." Alice scampered up the stairs. Rose didn't say anything as she passed, but she favored them with a small smile.

Victoria stood outside the front door, wrapped in a shawl. Her face was wan under the streaks of ash she still wore and her eyes spoke of an unspeakable sadness but she was a Queen again, regal, calm and polite. She shook Emmett and Bella's hands and wished them well on their journey and accepted Bella's condolences with the same distant demeanor.

"I feel so sorry for her," Bella said, climbing into one of the vans that would transport the refugees to the airport. "If I lost you ... I don't know how I could survive it."

Emmett kissed her temple. "Don't think about it, sweetheart."

Bella snuggled into his chest. "Where are we going?"

Emmett shrugged. "Wherever you'd like."

Bella was hesitant. "Can we ... can we go back to Fort Washington, just for a day or so?"

"If you'd like. We'll have to be careful, though."

The van filled with others, and a driver slid behind the wheel. The guy at the end of their seat row grabbed the door and slid it shut. They slowly drove down the driveway, weaving between cars and stopping frequently to let luggage-bearing people pass through. Bella looked back at the house and saw Edward standing on the steps, watching them go, a plain wooden box tucked under his arm. She raised her fingers in a tiny wave and he raised his hand in reply. They turned the corner and he was gone.


	15. Introspection

Chapter 15

Introspection

Laurent finished writing Lauren's eulogy, a distasteful task he'd put off for as long as possible. He wasn't a disingenuous man by nature and the praise he'd heaped on Lauren's memory stuck in his craw. He supposed it was the same for every eulogy. To listen to them, you'd think that mean, selfish people never died from the way their kin and friends made the deceased into posthumous paragons of virtue.

Still, Lauren was useful, or rather the memory of her, the memory that he and Bree were crafting. She was more useful dead than alive, actually, a thought that had occurred to him over a month ago when they first moved headquarters to New York. Dead, she was a wonderful figurehead, someone whose portrait could be silk-screened on a t-shirt with one of her slogans printed below. Dead, she was a martyr to the cause. Dead, she was the 'Mother of the Revolution.' Alive, she'd simply been a pain in his ass who'd started a revolution but had no idea what to do with it. Bree had done really well with repackaging her into an idealistic fighter who had struck the first blow against their oppressors, shedding her blood as promised in support of the Cause.

Yeah, he liked Lauren dead much more than he'd liked her alive.

Still, he had to give her some credit. She had tapped into an unsettled undertone in their society and had turned it into an uprising that grew more popular by the day. Laurent was organizing territories, appointing governors (and the irony of installing a new _fait accompli_ government was not lost on him), organizing the army and organizing their financial support system. It was a job of staggering complexity and occupied most of his waking moments, but he was building something of lasting importance, writing himself into their histories. In a few months, he'd have an "election" which would install him as the first president of the Vampire Union. As Stalin had said, '_It doesn't matter who votes, it matters who counts the votes.' _He wasn't very fond of using such tactics, but it really was for the better good of the people. He didn't know anyone else capable of accomplishing the Herculean task set before him.

First President. He liked the sound of that. _Viva La Resistance. _

* * *

><p>There was a fog rolling in off the sea as Bella returned to the burned-out shell of her house. Little was left, only some blackened timbers in the hole that had once been her basement. Bella hopped down into the hole, Emmett following after. She didn't really know why she was here, but something had pulled at her to return.<p>

It had rained since the fire and the ashes had formed a black muck that stuck to the bottom of her shoes, making her grimace with distaste. But she persevered because she was looking for something. What, she did not know, but she had to look. She poked around, nudging clumps with the toe of her shoe until a glimmer of metal caught her eye.

She crouched down and used her fingers to wipe away the muck. She had found one of her silver serving spoons, misshapen and blackened from the heat. She held it for a moment and thought about the meals she'd made, the small bit of joy that she'd brought to the lives of those she fed. When they sat at their makeshift table bedecked with fine china and a lovingly cooked meal, they'd had something that was often denied to them: dignity. They had the comfort of knowing at least one person cared about them, cared about how they were doing, cared that they got a nutritious meal three times a week. It was something to be proud of.

She put the spoon in her pocket.

Emmett saw something and he scraped away the dark ash to investigate. "Bella, look." Bella knelt beside him and gasped softly. It was the _ushabti _from her living room, the one her mother had brought back from a trip to Egypt. Bella picked it up and wiped it off on the hem of her skirt and marveled that it hadn't been destroyed. It's gorgeous blue faience color gleamed as brightly as ever.

"This was bought during the last trip my mother ever took," she said. "She wanted me to go with her and I wanted to go, too, but I just couldn't. You know how bad my ... issues were." It was nice that she could now speak of them in past tense. She wasn't completely free of them. She still wanted her environment to be stringently clean and washed her hands frequently, but she no longer felt the compulsion to bleach everything in sight. She could shake hands now, handle cash without squirming and sleep in hotel beds without fretting over dust mites. (Emmett had told her that insects avoided vampires, repelled by their scent.)

"I wouldn't have been able to function in a place that hit all of my triggers for germs, blazing sunlight and crowded conditions," Bella continued. "I didn't want to ruin it for her because I knew how badly she wanted to go. I think she was a little mad at me about it. She always believed that I could overcome my issues if I just _tried hard enough." _Bella's voice held a little bitterness at this last, but she could forgive her mother now. Renee simply hadn't been able to understand and in the end, all she'd wanted was for her daughter was for her to be happy. Her methods may have been wrong, but the intentions had been good.

"My dad and I stayed home while she went and had the time of her life. And it was nice for me and dad, too. As I told you before, he accepted me completely, and loved me just the way I was. He was the only person in my life who'd ever done that, until you came along. Actually, I think he would have liked you very much."

"He sounds like a good father. You were lucky to have him."

Bella smiled at the little blue mummy in her hand. "Yeah, I was." She hopped out of the hole and held a hand out to Emmett. "Come on. I got what I came for."

* * *

><p>Mr. Greyson was having trouble sleeping again. His back pain was bad and he couldn't find a comfortable sleeping position. So he walked. All of his people were tucked in their makeshift beds inside their shelters except for Maude who sat alone, near one of the pillars, rocking and quietly mumbling to herself. He made a mental note to keep an eye on her. She seemed to be getting worse.<p>

He went "topside", as the residents called the street above the bridge, and walked into the nights he spent wandering like this, for he enjoyed this time alone in the darkened nooks and crannies of the urban jungle. Always interesting, sometimes dangerous, sometimes heartbreaking, little dramas played out in the dark while the metropolis slept.

He didn't believe his eyes at first when Bella Swan stepped out of the alley. Behind her was the big vampire he'd seen with her the last month she'd brought them meals. Her hair was short, shorter than he'd ever seen it, curling under her ears and she was wearing a dress, but not the long, shapeless sacks she used to wear. It was pale green, form fitting to the hips where it flared out in a knee-length skirt. Over it she wore a light cream-colored coat. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. She smiled at him and stepped forward.

When he got closer to her, he could tell. "You're one of them," he said, sadly. "Everyone thinks you're dead."

"I am," Bella said, and the fact didn't seem to bother her much. "But I had to come back and say goodbye to you, and thank you for all that you did for me. Do you remember that night out on the cliff behind my house?"

"I do," Mr. Greyson replied. "You were lost and alone. I just gave you the little nudge you needed to find yourself."

"You saved me in more ways than one. I'll always be grateful." She smiled up at the giant beside her. "If it hadn't been for you, I never would have met Emmett."

"Are you happy?" Mr. Greyson asked. He hated that she was now one of the blood-suckers, but she was still _Bella,_ despite a few outward changes. She would never harm anyone. _Eternal life_, he mused. For her, it would mean eternal youth and beauty, never having to feel her body break down around her with age, never have to endure the pains that came with arthritic bones, never have to endure sickness nor watch the one she loved suffer any of those things. His mind flashed an image of his beloved Arlene. He still could not think of her without pain though she'd been dead for over ten years now, killed by the cancer that had eaten her alive.

Bella smiled and threaded her arm through that of the giant. "I am happy. Happier than I ever thought possible." She held out her hand and showed the ring Emmett had given her last night: a pink diamond solitaire in the shape of a heart. Inside the band, it was inscribed, _"Thou art beautiful, o my love, as Tirzah."_

Mr. Greyson dutifully admired it and turned to Emmett. "Take care of her," he said simply. There was so much more he wanted to say but his throat was clogging with unshed tears.

"I will," Emmett promised.

Mr. Greyson kissed Bella's cheek, something she would have never allowed in life. "I will think of you every time I dine in your lovely restaurant."

"I want you to have this," Bella said, pushing a wad of cash into his hand. He tried to demur, but she insisted. "Use it for your people. I know they have things they need now that it's getting colder."

She said goodbye and disappeared into the darkness. If not for the ridiculous sum of money in his hand and the lingering hint of freesia in the air, he would think it had been a dream.

* * *

><p>Bella surveyed her restaurant from across the street. It was open 24 hours a day, but this late, there were only a couple of customers, probably those, like Mr. Greyson, who couldn't sleep or needed to get out of the chill for a while. She saw a waitress stop and refill the coffee cup of a ragged woman in a yellow hat, giving the woman a kind smile.<p>

And she saw something that touched her. In the vestibule, there was a portrait of her on the wall with a small shelf below that bore a burning votive candle. A carnation had been laid on the shelf, someone paying respects to her memory. Beside it- Bella stared harder wondering if her new, sharp vision was deceiving her- was a Hershey's Kiss. A small ache formed in her heart. Maybe a child had left it; it was possible. But she somehow knew it had been Edward. He had come here, perhaps for the same reason as she was, seeking closure.

"Would you like to go in?" Emmett asked.

"No, no need," she said. Tears swelled up in her eyes. "Emmett ... that's our legacy. If not for you, it would have stayed a dream in the back of my mind, but you actually built it. And now, thanks to you, I have something I can point to and say, _'I did something with my life_.' Something important that will touch lives for years to come. I left a mark on the world and I will be remembered. Thank you."

He kissed her cheek. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

She took his arm and they turned, strolling down the street toward the place where he'd parked the car. "Where to next?" he asked.

"I'm ready to leave now," Bella said. "I feel like this was the last chapter in the book of my mortal life and now I've seen the resolution of the loose plot threads, the denouement is finished. And now I can start the next book. I can almost see it in my mind's eye, its pages waiting to be written."

"Any ideas on the plot?" Emmett asked.

"Oh, it's a romance," Bella said with a grin. "A _spicy_ romance set in exotic locations." She could picture him shirtless on the cover, holding her as she swooned in his arms.

Emmett smiled. "I like the sound of that. What do you say we find a decent hotel and write the first of our many love scenes?"

_And they lived happily ever after._

_._

_.  
><em>

**The End**

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

Alice never would have thought she would find Edward Masen knocking on her door, but there he was, standing outside her door, coatless in the cold rain.

It had been three years since she'd seen him last, after the attack on the Queen's estate in New York and it didn't look like those years had been kind to him. He looked strung-out, frankly, his skin pale with dark circles under his eyes, his hands shaking, his suit dirty and rumpled. His hair was longer than it had been when she saw him last and she wouldn't have been surprised if he told her he hadn't brushed it since that day. Vampires didn't get body odor since their skin did not have sweat and oils in which bacteria could grow, but he looked like his last shower was a distant memory.

"Come in," Alice said, stepping back from the door for him to pass. He came inside and Alice led them to her living room, hastily clearing some books and papers off the sofa so he could sit. "What brings you here?" She perched on the coffee table in front of him.

"I need your help," Edward said. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "Have you seen this?"

It was a print-out of a newspaper article. Alice read it silently.

...

**Pill could erase painful memories, study shows**

By Linda Carroll

_What if you could take a pill and erase painful memories? Most of us would probably choose not to lose parts of our past, but for those with post-traumatic stress disorder, such a pill might bring welcome relief._

_In a study that sounds very much like a scene from the movie "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," researchers have shown that the right medication might actually help rub out wrenching remembrances ..._

_...  
><em>

"Yes, I saw this in the news a few weeks ago," Alice said. "It's interesting research, but what does that have to do with why you're here?"

"I need your help," Edward repeated. He hunched over, rubbing his face, his elbows propped on his knees. He didn't look at her as he spoke. "I can't live like this any more. It eats at me day and night until I think I'll go mad. Nothing helps ... alcohol, drugs, sex. I can't escape it no matter how hard I try."

"Escape what?" Alice asked.

He pulled another paper from his pocket and handed it to her. It was a folded, crumpled wedding invitation still in its envelope. Alice had gotten one in the mail just like it, inviting her to the nuptials of Isabella Swan and Emmett McCarty. The invitation Edward handed her had someone else's name on the envelope, so he'd apparently swiped it.

"I love her," Edward said hoarsely. "I've heard all the bullshit about how time heals a broken heart and the pain would fade. Well, it hasn't. If anything, it's worse. Please, I'm in hell."

"I'm sorry," Alice told him, "but I don't know how I can help you."

"I want you to erase my memories," Edward said. "Not all of them, obviously, but the last four years should do it."

Alice stared at him. "What? Edward, I don't think-"

"Listen to me," he interrupted. "I know that the article was speaking of a theoretical treatment, but something may be possible in our kind as well."

"I suppose it's a possibility," Alice agreed, albeit reluctantly.

"I've also been researching cases where traumatic brain injury leads to memory loss." He handed her a third paper, this about the case of a man known as "HM" who'd had a surgical procedure to correct epilepsy and suffered subsequent retrograde amnesia, wiping out his memories of the last two years of his life.

"Jesus, Edward, you can't want me to perform brain surgery on you," Alice said, aghast. "I never went to medical school. Hell, I've never even dissected a frog."

Edward leaned forward, his eyes intent. "I'm volunteering myself as a lab rat. I know how curious you are. Well, here's a chance to run a series of experiments on vampire brains and memory. There's dozens of things we can try before any type of surgery. I'm sure you've seen soap operas where the character gets a bump on the head and gets amnesia. Well, it doesn't usually happen that way in real life but there are quite a few things that can cause it."

Alice couldn't deny that her curiosity was aroused. "Edward, I'm still not sure we should mess around with your brain, especially since I don't know what I'm doing."

"I'm sure you can learn." Edward stood and began to pace around the room. "I can pay you in the one thing I know you want more than anything?"

"What's that?"

"Knowledge. You want to know why Stonehenge was built or what Julius Caesar looked like? I can tell you. I was there. I've never told anyone how old I am or the things I've seen, but I'll tell you."

Alice was instantly beset by what Rose called "brain lust", a condition which usually sent her into a wild bout of research in which she'd forget to feed, forget everything but the search for the answers. She looked into the eyes of this Ancient, this man who knew so much, who'd witnessed so much history and said, "I'll do it. I can't make any promises that it will work, of course, but I'll try."

Edward smiled. "One last thing. You do have to make me a promise."

"What?"

"You have to promise that if it doesn't work, you'll kill me."


End file.
